


The Secret to a Good Trick

by AGirlByAnyOtherName



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Angst, Badass Musketeers, Episode: s01e02 Sleight of Hand, Family, Friendship, Gen, Hurt d'Artagnan, Hurt/Comfort, Modern AU, Poisoning, Police Musketeers, Protective Aramis, Protective Athos, Protective Porthos, Sleight of Hand AU, The Musketeers AU, d'Artagnan Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:01:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 36,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22420720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AGirlByAnyOtherName/pseuds/AGirlByAnyOtherName
Summary: D’Artagnan is chosen to complete a simple assignment on his own. Infiltrate Vadim’s gang and find out what his next move is.But nothing is as simple as it seems. When d’Artagnan runs into trouble can his friends save him in time?Sleight of Hand Modern!AU
Comments: 22
Kudos: 99





	1. Day 1

**Author's Note:**

> Now this right here is a story that I am very proud of. Definitely not because I think it’s brilliant writing or a fantastically creative idea, but because I have been (very slowly) writing this since 2014 and finallyyyyy it’s finished!
> 
> It started off as a modern AU of the episode ‘Sleight of Hand’ (1x02) but somewhere along the way it decided to take on a life of its own and go in a completely different direction…so I went with it and this was the outcome.
> 
> I’m not a doctor or a police officer and know next to nothing about either job and so was forced to rely solely on Google for information alongside my own imagination, so sorry for any mistakes or inaccuracies that follow… 
> 
> Also the ‘Festival Of The People’ was completely made up and doesn’t actually exist to my knowledge and so will most definitely not be factually correct. 
> 
> Thanks for reading and enjoy! :)

Monday morning and Athos was sitting at his desk in the office that he shared with his three fellow officers, trying to finish his paper work from the day before, whilst Aramis and Porthos were engrossed in their game of ‘rock, paper, scissors’.

Athos loved his friends, they were more like brothers really, and he would do anything for them, but they didn’t half annoy him sometimes. And best of 57 was a bit excessive.

“Gentlemen,” Athos put down the notes he had been reading, “I do believe you are paid to work, not to play childish games.”

“I’ll have you know,” Aramis started, “Rock paper scissors is no child’s game.”

“And anyway Mr I’m-Too-Professional-To-Have-Fun we _are_ about to start working, just as soon as I win.” Porthos sniggered.

“Porthos, it’s 43-8 to me, you’re never going to win!”

“Oh yeah? Well we’ll see about that! Best of 100!”

Athos groaned inwardly, where was d’Artagnan when he needed him? If not to be a distraction from the two idiots in the corner, then at least so that some work would be completed in his department.

Looking at the clock hanging on the wall opposite him, Athos noticed that d’Artagnan was 47 minutes late. _Sounds about right_ he thought to himself. The boy really needed to start getting in on time if he wanted to keep the job he’d worked so hard for.

Just as Athos was about to continue reading, the door came crashing open to reveal a rather dishevelled d’Artagnan struggling with the pile of paper work he had spent the whole night reading.

Dumping his stuff on his desk, Athos greeted him, “50 minutes d’Artagnan.”

“Sorry, sorry, sorry. I know I’m late, but I think you’ll find I’m improving! I mean I was an hour late every day last week.”

Smirking slightly, Athos simply rolled his eyes at the comment and got back to reading.

Watching this interaction between the two, Aramis was still amazed at the difference to their lives d’Artagnan had brought. Athos was a lot less uptight that’s for sure! I mean he and Porthos had been in an hour already and had gotten absolutely nothing done, yet Athos hadn’t been angry. The lad had unlocked a soft spot inside of him.

Happy that his Superior Officer wasn’t cross with him, d’Artagnan sat down and got to work filing the notes away. Most people would think this was the boring part of the job, especially compared to all of the undercover assignments and fights and car chases, but to d’Artagnan some filing work gave him time to appreciate how lucky he was to finally be accepted into the Musketeers.

It had been quite a rocky start for him, having accused Athos of the murder of his father – and consequently the murder of several others – he was fully prepared to kill the man for revenge, but instead he had ended up proving Athos’ innocence and catching the actual murderer. The fact that he had stayed with the Musketeers after this was as much his decision as it was theirs. He needed a reason to carry on, and they quite liked the idea of having someone around with his talent and determination.

A loud knock brought d’Artagnan’s attention to the door as it opened to reveal their Captain, Treville. “Meet me in my office in 5 minutes. I’ve got a job for you all.”

Aramis and Porthos shared an excited look, their eyes twinkling with excitement. A four man job meant that it was going to be big, and those jobs were the best. Athos and d’Artagnan packed away their work and proceeded to make themselves presentable for their Captain before the four of them left their desks and headed towards Treville’s office.

* * *

Now Vadim wasn’t like the normal criminals they took down. He was clever. Well, more clever than most. Having a good plan was his forte, and this meant that the Musketeers hadn’t been able to catch him so far, but now with this new idea, they were fairly confident they could take him down for sure.

D’Artagnan was to befriend the man, getting amongst his crowd of people, finding out his plans for the next robbery or murder, then the Musketeers would know when to expect him and catch him in the act. Easy. Only Athos didn’t see it as that easy.

When Treville had revealed the plan to everyone, d’Artagnan, as hot-headed as he is, was fully prepared to take on the job, excited even. But he was young, and more importantly inexperienced. Athos had been on missions to take down Vadim before, he knew what Vadim was capable of, and he knew that d’Artagnan’s impulsiveness could be his downfall. He had to be careful around this felon.

“No. We need a new plan.” Athos’ suddenly declaration surprised the four other men around the table, each of them looking up from the plans that had been laid out to hear what he had to say. “We can’t put d’Artagnan in this situation, it’s too dangerous.”

“What?! No Athos, we don’t need a new plan, I can do this!” D’Artagnan could admit to himself that he was a little nervous with the idea, but he still wanted to prove himself to his fellow musketeers, prove that he was capable of completing one assignment without something going wrong.

It was actually rather surprising that he even received his commission into the regiment, seeing as nearly every assignment during the months beforehand ended in him breaking what they’d been sent to recover, or letting the criminal they’d managed to capture get away.

He was not going to let that happen again. He needed to prove to Athos that he was capable. “Please, Athos, I know I can do this. I won’t fail you again.”

Before Athos could even think of a reply Aramis was the one to answer the young man.

“D’Artagnan you haven’t failed us, yeah assignments have gone a bit awry sometimes in the past, but you’ve never failed us.”

“And we know that you can do this,” Porthos began, “We just don’t want anything to happen to you. This assignment is the most dangerous that we ever asked you to complete, let alone complete by yourself, we just want to make sure that you’ll be safe.”

“But if you’re willing to go ahead with it, then we’ll let you” Aramis continued, aiming his words more at Athos than d’Artagnan.

D’Artagnan then turned back to his mentor, looking at him with his big brown pleading eyes, “Please Athos.”

Despite every inch of his being telling him not to let d’Artagnan go through with it, he knew he had to let the boy do this. “Fine. But no more of this impulsive behaviour of yours. Your recklessness could mean the failure of this assignment” he reprimanded softly.

As Athos reached his decision d’Artagnan was grinning like a Cheshire cat, “Thank you! I won’t let you down, I promise!” and Athos couldn’t help but roll his eyes at his friend’s enthusiasm.

* * *

After the meeting with Treville the four men returned to their office in order to prepare d’Artagnan. He had been given a new identity to memorise and the outline of the timetable for the next day.

Athos was at his computer collating all of the information they had on Vadim. He wanted d’Artagnan to know everything about the man he was to be getting involved with. 

Looking over at where d’Artagnan was reading his notes, Porthos couldn’t help but notice the tension radiating off the boy, as much as his friend was trying to hide his anxiety about the part he was to play in the assignment.

“So, Christophe.”

D’Artagnan let out a breath of a laugh at the use of his undercover name but looked up to make eye contact with his friend, “Yes Porthos?”

“Where were you born?” Porthos started quizzing his friend.

“Gascony,” d’Artagnan answered confidently. It was a potential risk, using d’Artagnan’s original home town as his undercover one, but if questioned, it was the place d’Artagnan knew about the best.

“Good, good, _when_ were you born?” Porthos continued.

Trying to remember the date he had just read, d’Artagnan answered, “22 nd September 1994?”

“Wrong!” Aramis suddenly exclaimed.

Panicking, d’Artagnan dropped his eyes to look back over his notes.

“Ah ah ah! No looking! You need to know this!” Aramis chided.

“Dude! I’ve had this for literally two minutes!” d’Artagnan retorted.

Aramis tried his best to keep a straight face while Porthos did his best to wind the Gascon up, “Look d’Artagnan, if you’re not up for the job…”

Grabbing the first thing he could see on his desk, d’Artagnan flung his pen towards Porthos, hitting him right on the forehead, causing him and Aramis to burst out laughing at the stunned expression on Porthos’ face.

“Good shot,” Aramis sniggered, “But seriously though, it’s the 24 th , not the 22 nd .”

“Okay well I was close, and by tomorrow I _will_ know it for definite.” D’Artagnan promised, and Aramis had no doubt that he would.

“You happy with the timetable for tomorrow?” Porthos questioned.

“Yep, get here by 9:30am,” d’Artagnan began, making a mental note to actually arrive on time for once, “Leave at 10:00am to be in position at 10:15am, get taken in by Vadim, spend the day there gaining as much intel as possible, leave by 5:30pm, check in by 6:00pm.” 

“Now remember, we can’t be seen anywhere near your house just in case he has people watching it.” Aramis reminded him, “Oh and when you check in, take off all the clothes you’ve been wearing and leave them in another room just in case he’s bugged you at all and is listening in.”

“But put some clothes back on first! I know what you’re like; we’ll turn on the webcam and suddenly see you pop up completely naked!”

D’Artagnan snorted at Porthos’ comment, realising that that was something he would probably do.

* * *

The remainder of d’Artagnan’s afternoon consisted of alternating from calmly reading his notes, to internally panicking that he was going to mess everything up.

Looking up, he watched as Athos walked over to his desk with what he presumed to be the documents that the printer had been slowly discharging noisily for the past half an hour.

D’Artagnan eyed the stack of notes as Athos abruptly dumped them on his desk.

“What is that?”

“ _That_ is everything that we have on Vadim. If you want to be prepared for tomorrow then you should know everything that we’ve ever found out about him, everything we’ve arrested him for, everything known about his background.”

D’Artagnan nodded in response.

“Go home d’Artagnan, there’s nothing else for you to do here. Read through this, memorise your identity, get an early night.” Athos suggested gently, but the look on his face told d’Artagnan that the matter was not up for discussion.

“Okay.” D’Artagnan nodded again before packing up his things and bidding his friends farewell for the night.

For a few moments, Athos stayed where he was, watching the door that his young friend had just walked out of. He still had his worries about letting the boy complete this assignment alone, but if that’s what d’Artagnan wanted he’d keep his mouth shut for the time being.

One look at his friend and Porthos could see practically everything that was going on in his head.

“He’ll be alright, Athos.”

“I just don’t think he’s ready.” Athos started pacing the room in an attempt to disperse the worry that was flowing through him.

“Why not? Don’t you think he’s proved himself enough already.” Aramis questioned.

“Of course he has! But it’s not that. He doesn’t have our…background…we know how to deal with someone like Vadim, but he’s never had to before.”

“I know Athos, I know. But I don’t think we have a choice. D’Artagnan’s the only one of us that Vadim doesn’t know, so he’s our only hope of this mission being a success. And I’m sure he’ll be fine.” Aramis reassured his friend.

But he knew that Athos had a point. Their background had provided them all with a range of skills that could come in handy when taking down someone like Vadim.

_Gun fire and explosions. That’s what first comes to mind when Aramis thinks of the time when he first met two of the closest friends he’s ever known._

_It was 10 years ago when the naïve, adventurous 22 year old joined the army. He hadn’t known what to do with his life, so it seemed as good a job as any. Unfortunately it was more traumatic than he could have possibly imagined, and even now he knows he could not have gotten through it without his two friends._

_Aramis had been put in the same regiment as Athos and Porthos, and the three of them quickly formed a seemingly unbreakable bond._

_It was during their time serving together that they realised that they each held the others’ lives in their hands. One slip-up or miscalculation could cost someone their life. This brotherhood strengthened over the 3 years, and when they returned home for good, it was the bond remaining intact that helped keep the nightmares at bay._

_After returning they had been unsure of what to do for a while. To them, their abilities seemed only to consist of how to go to extreme measures to kill their enemy or defend themselves and their friends._

_It was Athos - the eldest of the three by 7 years - that took the first step back to normalcy by joining the police. However, it hadn’t been long before Aramis and Porthos had followed Athos’ lead into the profession. Having a relatively normal job helped to stop them feeling quite so lost after the army, but if certain missions had their blood pumping and adrenaline running high – just like in the army – well, they didn’t complain._

It was this fact that allowed doubt to start seeping into Aramis’ thoughts. D’Artagnan may be bold and brave, but he was still just a boy.

* * *

That night d’Artagnan was sitting on his bed, all of Athos’ notes laid out in front of him, coffee mug close by. Reading through everything, his mood had gone from _definitely prepared_ to _absolutely terrified_. Vadim had been arrested 37 times over the past 6 years that the Musketeers had known about him, his list of crimes ranging from the theft of priceless jewels to the brutal torture and murder of innocent civilians.

But it wasn’t the list of crimes that had him worried. He’d been with the Musketeers long enough to see his own share of the horrors in the world. No, it was that not a single crime had been proved. Vadim had been guilty every single time, he knew that, the Musketeers knew that, but all 37 times Vadim had gotten away with it.

Vadim was too smart.

D’Artagnan only hoped, this time, he was smarter.


	2. Day 2

By the time his alarm went off at 8:00, d’Artagnan was already up and dressed. Worrying about the assignment led to him waking several times during the night, and after waking up at 7:15 and realising he wasn’t going to get back to sleep, he decided to get up.

He had spent his morning going over his timetable and identity a few more times, despite the fact that he knew it word for word, having spent hours the previous night memorising it.

Then when the sudden shrieking buzz of the alarm started, d’Artagnan jumped so high he almost fell right off his bed.

“Stupid thing…thought I’d turned you off.” He grumbled to himself, annoyed that the machine had made him reveal to himself just how on edge he was. Putting down his notes, he continued to get ready.

It wasn’t long before he had eaten a quick bowl of cereal and was out the door ready to walk to work.

The walk was relatively uninteresting, but he made the most of the crisp morning air, unsure of how long he was going to have to be cooped up with Vadim.

Reaching the station, d’Artagnan was unsurprised to see the cars of his friends already in their parking spaces, despite being early himself. Walking through the building, he nodded good morning to Treville before opening the door to the office where Athos, Aramis and Porthos were at their desks.

“Woah, who are you and what have you done with d’Artagnan? It’s only 9:00!” Porthos joked when their youngest friend walked through the door.

“Yeah, yeah, very funny.” D’Artagnan commented back, instantly feeling more relaxed after seeing his friends.

“So, are you ready for your big day?” Aramis asked.

D’Artagnan shrugged, not really sure how to answer the question, “I guess, I mean I’ve memorised everything and I know what I have to do when I get in.”

“Good,” Porthos smiled, “Now remember, be careful when you’re in there. You’re not going to have anything on you that you’d normally have. No guns, no tech equipment.”

“Yeah, not even us babbling in your ear.” Aramis quipped.

“Oh, so there is one good thing to come out of all this then,” d’Artagnan grinned cheekily while Aramis mocked being hurt by his comment.

Getting up from his desk, Athos picked up some old, worn clothes that they’d managed to acquire for the assignment.

“You’ll need to get changed into these before you go,” he said as he handed the clothes to d’Artagnan.

“Aah he speaks!” Porthos gasped. 

Athos made an unamused face to his friend, before directing d’Artagnan to get changed.

* * *

Vadim and his men were based in an old abandoned library on the outskirts of town. Treville and the Musketeers had known where he was hiding out for some time but Vadim was careful, he’d ensured that the Musketeers never got a scrap of evidence of his crimes, so they could very well arrest him but they’d end up having nothing to charge him with. That’s where d’Artagnan came in. If the boy could find out Vadim’s latest plan and bring back something that could prove Vadim’s connection to the crime, then the assignment would be a success. Whilst most likely saving lives in the process.

So it was at 10:00 that Porthos and Aramis watched as d’Artagnan and Athos got into the police car that was waiting for them outside the station.

The boy was dressed for the part, he knew what he had to do and was ready to begin the assignment.

“Do you think he’s gonna be okay?” Porthos asked his friend, not taking his eyes off the car as it began to pull away.

“Course he will. D’Artagnan’s always okay, and he’s managed to get himself out of more scrapes then I care to remember.”

“Yeah, but Athos has got a point. The kid’s never done something like this before.”

“He’ll be fine, Porthos.” Aramis reassured his friend before leading them both back inside the building, trying to push down the feeling of doubt that had continued to grow inside him.

* * *

In the car, Athos was in the driver’s seat whilst d’Artagnan was sitting calmly in the back.

“Now remember,” Athos started, “as soon as you step out of the car, we do exactly what we’ve planned.”

“Stay in character and pretend I hate you. Got it.” D’Artagnan smirked.

Athos smiled to himself, rolling his eyes at the boy’s cockiness, before speaking again.

“You sure you’re up to this?” He asked once more.

“Athos, stop fussing! I’m ready and fully capable of completing this assignment,” d’Artagnan attempted to reassure his friend, “you don’t have to worry about me.”

“Oh d’Artagnan, I always have to worry about you.” Athos scoffed, before throwing a quick smile to the man through the rear view mirror.

D’Artagnan smirked back then turned his head to look out the window.

After a few moments in a comfortable silence, d’Artagnan spoke again. 

“What if he does catch me out?” He asked in a quiet voice.

“He won’t.” Athos replied confidently.

“Athos I’m serious.”

“He won’t.” Athos reaffirmed, “Think like that and you’re more likely to slip up. Be your normal confident self and you’ll get through this easily. You’ll fool Vadim so bad, he’ll be left doubting people he thinks he knows for the rest of his life.”

Thankful for his friend’s encouragement, he continued to watch the world go by before they reached the drop off point.

It wasn’t long before the police car pulled up to the pavement a few yards from the outside of the library and the driver’s door flew open. Taking a careful observation of the area, Athos moved to the back door and yanked it open before pulling d’Artagnan out with a grip on his shirt, pushing him down onto the path.

“Here’s as good a place as any to drop you off.” Athos said loudly, looking at the boy on the floor by his feet.

“Oh wow, thanks, you’re so kind.” D’Artagnan replied sarcastically, trying to act as pissed off as possible. He watched as Athos got back in the car and waited for him to drive off before giving some choice gestures to the back of the car, making an effort to get into character.

D’Artagnan jumped up off the floor as soon as he realised that someone was watching him from the shadows of the nearby alley way and quickly brushed down his front in an attempt to rid his clothes of any dirt.

D’Artagnan nodded to the man, acknowledging his presence. 

“Y’alright?” he asked nonchalantly.

“What d’ya get caught for?” the man questioned, moving round the corner from where he was lurking.

Seeing him fully in the light confirmed d’Artagnan’s theory that the man was one of Vadim’s men. His clothes were dirty and tattered, and looked as if he could do with a good wash.

Sticking to his story, d’Artagnan replied casually to the man, “Stealing, not that they could prove anything.”

“So why’d they dump you here then?” 

“Ain’t exactly got anywhere else to go.”

D’Artagnan watched as the man studied him guardedly for a moment before speaking.

“I know a place. You might be of use to a few of us there.”

_Well that was easy_ , d’Artagnan thought to himself, before giving a slight nod to the man again and following him as he walked towards the library. 

* * *

Driving off was one of the hardest things Athos had ever had to do in his job. He had seen the man lurking in the alley way and knew that he would most likely be d’Artagnan’s way in. That also meant that the plan was definitely going ahead. Part of him had secretly hoped that the boy wouldn’t be able to find a way to be accepted into Vadim’s little gang, and that way he wouldn’t have to go through with the assignment.

It would make d’Artagnan feel like he’d failed, but at least he would be safe, and that’s what Athos wanted more than anything. But now, d’Artagnan was on his own, in a place where Athos couldn’t protect him.

He got back to the station to find Aramis and Porthos in the office. Both were leaning against opposite walls of the room, mindlessly throwing a scrunched up ball of paper to each other.

Evidence of why they should have actually been working had slowly been building on their desks for the past few days in the form of paper work, but Athos couldn’t blame them. If he had been the one to wait behind, he wouldn’t have been able to concentrate either.

“I hope that wasn’t something important.” Athos nodded towards the paper ball, shutting the door behind him.

“So, how did it go?” Aramis asked eagerly, instantly dropping the paper and moving round the desk in front of him to talk to Athos better, Porthos following suit.

Athos sat down on his chair before answering the question.

“As well as it could have. There was someone there when I dropped him off so I’m guessing it won’t be hard for him to get in.”

* * *

D’Artagnan had always loved libraries. When he was younger his grandma would take him to the library after school every Thursday when she had to pick him up. He could spend hours in there, finding an empty corner all for himself, immersing himself in every new book he picked up. The older he got the less he went to the library, choosing instead to read at home, but he still treasured the homely feeling he felt whenever he went back.

Entering through the doors of the library now, d’Artagnan did not feel any of this. There were no children running around his feet, no inviting rows of brightly coloured paperbacks, not even the gentle clicking coming from the old ladies’ knitting club. No homely feel at all.

Now there was dust covering all the shelves, furniture overturned and ripped up books strewn across the floor. There was a dreadful stench that accompanied the many bodies lounging about the room who obviously hadn’t washed in weeks.

This was a very old library. D’Artagnan knew that instantly from the old wooden furniture and the rolling ladder that was once used to reach the books on the top shelves. To see it in such disrepair and being used as a gang hideout saddened him greatly. 

“Oi Vadim, got a new one for you,” the man next to him startled him out of his thoughts.

A slightly older looking man looked up from what he had been reading to take a look at d’Artagnan.

“Where d’ya find this one?” he nodded his head towards d’Artagnan.

“Police dropped him off just up the road. So what do you think? He looks in good shape, could be useful?”

D’Artagnan wanted to interrupt their conversation to remind them that he was actually standing right there, but he was beaten to it when Vadim directed the next question to him.

“What’s your name kid?”

“Christophe,” d’Artagnan held out his hand, instantly regretting the decision, _you’re supposed to be a criminal dude start acting like one,_ “Christophe Deniau.”

Vadim, however, didn’t seem fazed and shook d’Artagnan’s hand.

“So, Christophe, you want to join us?”

“That alright with you?” d’Artagnan asked casually.

Vadim studied him for a second, “hmm, well I suppose we could always use someone like you.”

“Well, then I would be honoured Vadim,” d’Artagnan smirked slightly.

“Well, it appears you’ve joined us at a very crucial point in our preparation.” Vadim stated, looking around the others in the room.

“Preparation for what?” d’Artagnan questioned.

“Ahh, all in good time, Christophe, all in good time. But for now, why not let Felix here show you where you can sleep for the night.” Vadim gestured to the man next to d’Artagnan before turning to return to his work.

Following Felix, d’Artagnan quickly learned from the mess on the floor that his bed wasn’t going to be the comfiest – or cleanest – of places.

Stopping in one corner of the room, Felix pointed to a few blankets that had been dumped in a pile.

“Here you go then, should keep you warm enough, and I’m sure Lucie here will share her body heat if you ask nicely,” Felix smirked at him whilst the young lady sitting on the floor looked up at hearing her name and winked at the pair jokingly.

* * *

It turned out that Vadim didn’t take much convincing to reveal everything about his plans, much to d’Artagnan’s surprise. After introducing him to more of the inhabitants of the rather filthy hideaway, Vadim was happy to tell d’Artagnan what he wanted to know.

“So what’s this preparation for that you mentioned earlier?” d’Artagnan asked, sitting opposite Vadim at the table. He noticed that Felix had remained standing behind him as if in an attempt to stop him from leaving.

“Don’t know if you’ve heard of me kid, but I’m pretty notorious amongst us thieves for pulling off the biggest robberies and this one I’ve planned is gonna be the biggest.” Vadim answered confidently.

“How comes?”

“Ever heard of the _La Rose et Les Nymphéas_?”

“Isn’t that the painting being held at the Louvre?” d’Artagnan did always love a bit of history culture.

“It’s worth €172 million.”

“And you’re going to steal it?” d’Artagnan was actually surprised that Vadim would attempt to steal a painting worth so much. Thinking back to the notes from Athos, it really was the biggest robbery he had attempted by far.

“Need to leave a legacy for when I’m gone…”

“Well I’m impressed” d’Artagnan said truthfully, “when are you planning on doing it?”

“Soon,” Vadim replied unhelpfully, “but that’s enough questions for tonight, it’s getting late and I have plans to make.”

D’Artagnan looked up suddenly, “why what’s the time?”

“6:10.” Came the reply.

Shit. _Check in by 6:00pm._ That’s what they had said. Shit, shit, shit.

D’Artagnan made to stand up, aware that he had to sneak out without Vadim suspecting anything, but bumping into Felix and almost falling over made him realise that that wasn’t going to happen.

Change of plan. He needed to think of a good enough excuse to leave.

“Umm…I have to go.”

“Go?” Yep, Vadim was definitely suspicious.

“I need to go see my missus,” d’Artagnan asked coolly.

“Your missus?” Vadim questioned.

“Yeah well I’m pretty sure she’s actually someone else’s missus, but what does that matter,” he replied cheekily

Vadim surveyed him for a moment before letting him go. “Very well. But Christophe…” Vadim grabbed his arm and looked him straight in the eye. “Tell no-one.”

* * *

It was 6:30 and Athos was pacing again. The laptop was turned on and ready, all that was needed now was the caller that should have been on the other end of the video chat by now.

“Athos will you please sit down, the lad’s not exactly been the best at time keeping has he?” Aramis was used to his friend’s worrisome nature, but the monotonous action was making him dizzy.

“You know what Aramis, I’m actually quite insulted,” Porthos stated, “I don’t remember Athos ever being this worried about us, even in the middle of a bloomin’ war zone.”

“You’re right Porthos,” Aramis continued his friend’s mock, “I mean the number of times we’ve almost died and nothing, but as soon as this kid comes along he’s worried about him writing up notes in case he gets a paper cut!”

Aramis turned to his older friend, the smirk on his face returned only with an exasperated expression.

“You think I baby him?” Athos questioned.

“We think you care,” Porthos said fondly, “but you need to let the boy make his own mistakes without constantly worrying that he’s going to make them.”

Athos didn’t have a chance to reply as the laptop starting ringing with an incoming video call.

“D’Artagnan? Are you okay?” Athos questioned as soon as the boy’s face appeared on the screen.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine Athos, sorry I’m late. I lost track of the time,” d’Artagnan smiled at his friends.

Aramis and Porthos shared a knowing look from either side of Athos.

“You’ve changed I see.” Porthos was glad the lad had remembered their instructions.

“Yeah, not that they could’ve actually bugged me, they haven’t got enough tech equipment to sink a dinghy.”

“But it all went okay yeah?” Aramis asked, “Did you manage to find out much?”

“Yeah actually, I mean he didn’t tell me much, he’s careful about what he shares, but I don’t think he suspects anything,” d’Artagnan replied confidently, “he plans to steal the _La Rose et Les Nymphéas_ , the painting in the Louvre. It’s worth millions, said something about wanting to be remembered, to leave a good legacy behind.”

Aramis was surprised at this information. “He must be mad if he thinks he’s going to pull that off, does he know how heavily guarded it is! It’s only on loan for a couple of months before it’s passed on to some other country.”

Athos on the other hand had no doubt that Vadim would succeed if he wanted to. “It’s all well and good getting an admission out of him, but we still need to catch him in the act. Has he said when he’s going to steal it?”

“Not yet,” d’Artagnan shook his head, “but he trusts me, I’ll find out soon.”


	3. Day 3

Arriving at the library the next morning, d’Artagnan was surprised at how busy the place was. Everyone seemed to be working on something, whether they were crowded around tables looking at plans or standing in small groups discussing something seemingly very important. There was only about 25 people in Vadim’s little gang, but every single one of them was occupied by whatever was going on.

It was actually unusual to d’Artagnan that Vadim had so many followers. He would have thought that someone like that would work alone, or have very few accomplices - not accepting any newcomer that appears on his doorstep. If they all had a role, how comes Vadim was the well-known one out of all of them? Did he come up with the plan and they just helped carry it out? Did he keep most of the money and riches himself? D’Artagnan made a mental note to find out more about this, more for his curiosity than anything else.

“Ah Christophe, perfect timing!” Vadim exclaimed as he walked towards d’Artagnan from the other side of the room.

“Vadim? What’s going on?” d’Artagnan questioned curiously.

“Your first test my boy,” Vadim answered with a grin on his face.

“Test?” D’Artagnan grew slightly concerned. What was Vadim going to make him do? If it was illegal and he got caught, there was only so much he could get away with on the assignment without actually being in serious trouble with Treville.

Vadim led him over to one of the tables near the back of the room and gestured for him to sit down and view the paper work that had been laid out.

“You say that you want to join us and I believe you, I do, there is just the slight issue of your skill. You see, this heist is going to be legendary and I can’t have amateurs ruining everything.” Vadim looked d’Artagnan in the eye, a serious expression on his face. “So I’ve planned a little something for you to be getting on with today.”

Vadim noticed the worried expression that had been growing on d’Artagnan’s face that the boy had been unable to hide and he couldn’t help but laugh.

“No need to look so frightened! It’s only something small, and you’ve probably done this a hundred times. I just need to see you in action is all. You won’t be going alone either, I’m sending some of the boys to be your backup.”

“You want me to steal something?” d’Artagnan guessed, remembering that his cover story was that he was arrested for stealing. 

“You up for that?”

“Of course,” d’Artagnan smirked, he couldn’t blow his cover now that he was so close to finding out the information they needed.

“Good!” Vadim clapped him on the back, “You’ve heard of _Orfèvres_ right? That jewellery store in the shopping centre…”

Yep, Treville was so going to kill him.

* * *

Athos found himself sitting at his desk, attempting to finish a report that Treville had requested. Unfortunately his mind kept wandering to d’Artagnan, about how the assignment might be going. He was missing the boy terribly, previously having him as a constant presence with them wherever they went. Despite being part of a trio for so many years, d’Artagnan seemed to fit into their little group so nicely it was odd to think that there wasn't always four of them.

He was also again being distracted by his other two friends that seemed to never be doing any work. Aramis had somehow acquired a large lump of blu-tack and they were now making animals out of it.

Athos hadn't even realised that he was staring at them until Porthos looked up and caught him in the act. "What?" Porthos asked innocently.

Athos simply rolled his eyes, "I don't understand how either of you actually get paid, I mean when was the last time you did any proper work hmm?”

“This _is_ work Athos…a work of art!” Aramis expressed, holding up his mini elephant for them both to see.

“You know what, you’re right, I mean your talents are completely wasted by being in the police,” Athos replied. “You should have become a comedian.”

“Haha ha ha,” Aramis let out a forced laugh, smirking all the same, “you think you’re so funny Athos.”

“I guess that makes two of us then…” Athos started, causing Porthos to laugh at how childish they were being.

“Seriously though, it would be good if you actually did something productive once in a while.” Athos started, and carried on quickly after receiving an incredulous look from Aramis before he could be interrupted, “and as it so happens I have a little something you two could do. It would get you out of the office for a little while?”

“And why didn’t you mention this earlier?” Porthos asked, already reaching for his jacket.

“Because Treville’s only just emailed it to me…and if you were looking at your computer you’d have seen that he emailed it to you both too.” Athos replied. 

“Woop woop! We’re going shopping!” Aramis grinned.

“Actually thinking about it, maybe you two aren’t the best for the job…” Athos began.

“He needs us to pick up the CCTV footage from that attempted robbery at _Orfèvres_ the other day,” Porthos continued reading over Aramis’ shoulder the email that he had brought up on the screen. “Why? We’re not even on that case, and anyway shouldn’t that have been picked up when they first went to talk to the owner?”

“I dunno, probably had something to do with incompetent police officers not doing their job.” Aramis answered.

Athos had to hold back a laugh at that one, “Look Treville needs someone to do it, so do you want to go get them or not.”

No more persuasion was needed for the two to be out and on their way to the shopping centre.

* * *

D’Artagnan was not happy. Not in the slightest. He wasn’t a thief. He had no ‘thief’ skills. He had no desire to learn any. Yet here he was, casually strolling into the busy shopping centre, Felix and a few others by his side, preparing to steal for the first time in his life. 

Vadim had explained exactly what he want him to do before swiftly sending him on his way. He didn’t want anything specific, just whatever d’Artagnan could get his hands on really, as long as it was of some value. 

D’Artagnan didn’t feel prepared enough to be doing this. Despite not being a thief himself, he’d had several run-ins with them in the past and he was pretty certain that they’d all planned their robberies before carrying them out. Not deciding to do it all spur of the moment like he was about to. Most had some sort of weapon or at least something to cover their faces. D’Artagnan and his ‘friends’ had neither. Vadim had said that it wasn’t needed, that it wasn’t even one of those proper expensive stores - the ones that had alarms all over the place and jewels that were barricaded behind glass screens and a bazillion locks - so no precaution was needed, he just had to be quick, in-and-out, grab the jewellery and leave.

On top of all that, Vadim had simply given him one piece of advice. _The secret to a good trick is to make people look the wrong way._ Well, in d’Artagnan’s opinion that was easier said than done.

The small group of five had made it to the shopping centre in quite good timing - much to d’Artagnan’s chagrin - and were now heading to the jewellery store on the second level. Another issue in d’Artagnan’s mind, if he was having to run away, would he use the escalators or the lift? Escalators would be a wise choice, but what if they had lots of people on them and there was no room to run down? If he used the lift could he get down quicker than the person chasing him? What if the lift broke down whilst he was in it? What if-

“You know what you have to do?” Felix asked, cutting off his train of thought.

“Yeah, I’m ready” D’Artagnan attempted to act as relaxed as possible, reminding himself that this was supposed to be his day-job.

Entering the store d’Artagnan was pleased to see that it already contained quite a few people, all of which were already distracting at least one member of staff. If it was completely empty he was more likely to get caught by someone.

Immediately d’Artagnan began to scope out the place. Finding his police skills coming in quite useful, he was able to determine the easiest jewels to grab. Several sparkling necklaces and bracelets were out in the open dotted around the shop on different stands.

He was momentarily distracted when Felix’s voice could be heard loud and clear. Turning around he understood why. Standing at one of the counters Felix had his arm around Zoe’s waist and was talking cheerily to a member of staff, “Well you see it’s my gorgeous girl’s birthday in a few days and I think she deserves something just as gorgeous as she is…” Zoe was giggling into her hand, acting all embarrassed. Acting the part.

On the other side of the shop Pierre and Louis could be seen pretending to be interested in the rings under the counter.

Looks like it was time to get started.

There were three members of staff out on the shop floor, all of which were currently serving at least one person. D’Artagnan went about looking at the watches that were on show, constantly looking out of the corner of his eye to check if he was being watched.

Moving closer to one end of the counter where a stand of bracelets was on show in the corner, he tried to work out how he would go about getting them off. From where he was standing it looked like it was going to be pretty easy. They seemed to be on a kind of horizontal tube that had a pole through the middle which was attached to the base of the stand.

An up close inspection confirmed d’Artagnan’s thoughts. There was nothing that the bracelets were attached to, nothing that needed to be unlocked on the ends of the tube. Getting these expensive items off was as simple as sliding them off of the end. _It’s a wonder this place hasn’t been robbed before, they’re making it way too easy not to,_ d’Artagnan thought to himself, preparing to begin his part in the plan.

Carefully looking around one more time, d’Artagnan could see that the three members of staff had been cleverly led to the other side of the shop by Felix and the others.

With no one watching over him, he quickly but gently slide the first bracelet off the stand and slid it into his pocket. Looking around again he confirmed to himself that no one saw anything.

Well that was easy. Maybe he could get another one? I mean he wanted to keep up his reputation as a thief and what better way to prove himself to Vadim than to bring back a collection of jewels.

Doing the same thing, d’Artagnan slid another two bracelets off of the stand at the same time and again put them into his pocket. 

Wow could this get any easier? He could take the whole bloody rack and nobody would notice. Of course this is how people get caught though. They get cocky, try to take too much and then get caught. He’d seen it a hundred times in the past. But surely one more wouldn’t hurt. (Well it would hurt the shop owner but he was trying not to think about that.) One more, then he would call it a day.

But of course, just as he was putting this final bracelet in his pocket, another member of staff came to the front of the shop and spotted him.

“Oi stop!” The man called out running towards him.

D’Artagnan didn’t even hesitate, he turned and bolted out of the shop in an instant and from the sound of running behind him he guessed that the others had done the same. Well, either that or security were now chasing him.

Risking a glance over his shoulder he wasn’t sure whether to feel pleased or worried that it was in fact both. The others had clearly done this several times before as despite his police training they’d managed to catch up with him in. The two security guards however were a bit further behind, meaning if the group just kept running they might in fact get away.

Reaching the top of the escalator, d’Artagnan could have laughed out loud thinking back to before the robbery when he had been considering this dilemma. Luckily there wasn’t a single person on it once he’d reached the top and so he tore down in seconds, the others hot on his heels.

Continuing to run down the middle of the shopping centre, swerving in and out of the masses of people, he chanced looking back for a second time to see if they were still being followed.

What he saw, however, was so unexpected that he didn’t even notice he’d stopped running.

Maybe 30 feet behind him was one of the ‘security guards’. Only it wasn’t security, it was Aramis.

_Shit,_ he thought to himself. Only once he’d registered that Aramis was in fact no longer chasing him did he realise that he was also standing still. He didn’t know what to do. The logical thing would be to run. ‘Christophe’ doesn’t know this man so whilst he has the chance he should get away.

But he could hear the others calling his name, meaning they’d seen that he had stopped…and also that Aramis has stopped. The last thing he wanted to do was make Felix suspicious of him, so if he managed to ‘get away’ now what would that make them think?

Realising that Aramis was not going to make the decision for him, he decided to run, praying that the others didn’t really notice anything.

He carried on running as fast as his feet would allow, the five of them sprinting out of the building and down the street before anyone else could do anything about it.

* * *

Aramis and Porthos had taken their time in getting to the shopping centre. They figured that they had probably been annoying Athos a bit and so thought it was a good idea to give their friend some time on his own. 

Just inside the shopping centre was their local Costa and so they saw no harm in popping in to grab a quick takeaway coffee each.

Hot drinks in hand they continued towards the jewellery store.

“You know, when this case is over, the four of us should really go out for the day.” Aramis thought out loud.

Porthos hummed in agreement, “I think all of us have been so focused on work recently we haven’t had time to properly hang out together in ages.”

“Can’t believe we’re actually having to do this though…finishing up other people’s jobs.” Aramis commented as they approached _Orfèvres_.

Porthos didn’t have the chance to answer as a shout of _“Oi stop!”_ could be heard from inside the shop followed by a group of young men and women running out of the store.

Without even having to think about it, the pair not so carefully threw their coffee cups in the nearby bin, shouted a quick _“it’s okay, we’re the police!”_ to the shop employee and chased after the group. Despite the training Aramis and Porthos had had over the years, the group they were chasing were young and so had speed and agility on their side. 

“I’ll go left, try to cut them off!” Aramis shouted to Porthos, deciding to take a different tactic to take down the delinquents.

Aramis veered off to the left while Porthos continued straight on, keeping the group in his sights, watching how they carelessly knocked over passers-by and seemed to be getting further away from him.

Aramis was thankful for his decision to go a different way as he managed to reach the top of the escalators just as the last girl of the group stepped onto them. He didn’t even bother looking back - presuming that Porthos must be behind him somewhere - before tearing down the escalators after them. 

_Oh my god do they ever get tired?_ Aramis thought to himself as he continued running through the crowds of people. _Can’t one of you just slow down enough for me to catch you!_

What he wasn’t expecting was for one of them to do just that. The young man who he remembered was the first to run out of the shop had ended up at the back of the group and had decided to risk a look back.

Aramis had then noticed that the boy had in fact stopped and at first he was confused but after looking properly at the lad’s face, he too stopped running without even realising.

Standing not that far in front of him was d’Artagnan. He looked worn out from the running and surprised to see that it was Aramis who had been chasing him. He also looked worried, like he wasn’t sure what to do next.

Aramis didn’t know what to do either. Should he let d’Artagnan go or should he arrest him? To everyone else around, the boy in front of him was just another criminal, not one of his best friends.

He didn’t have a chance to make a decision as d’Artagnan took off just as quickly as he’d stopped, leaving Aramis watching him go.

“Shit!” he swore to himself, realising that he might have made a mistake. Turning around he looked back down the row of shops for Porthos, spotting him running round the corner, looking evidently confused that Aramis had not caught the perpetrators.

“Why’d you stop?” Porthos panted once he’d caught up with Aramis, but before he allowed his friend to answer he shook his head and carried on, “I’ll keep going, might be able to catch at least one of them.”

“No!” Aramis held his arm out to stop his friend, “We can’t. It was d’Artagnan…”

Porthos looked at him confused, “What? You’re sure it was him?”

Aramis nodded in reply, leading them both over to a nearby bench. If they were no longer going to catch the thieves, they might as well get their breath back.

“I don’t think he knew that it was us chasing him; I mean I didn’t know it was him that we were chasing. But as we were running, he looked back for a split second and in that second I think we both realised and we both froze. I didn’t know what to do. I knew that if Vadim’s gang saw me let him go, it could blow his cover, but then if I caught him, it could compromise the whole mission. He must have been thinking the same thing, but the others were calling his name and we were only looking at each other for like two seconds, but then he made the decision for me and carried on running. So I let him go.”

Nothing was said for a few moments as Porthos took in what Aramis was telling him. He knew d’Artagnan could take care of himself but he still worried for the lad’s safety. Aramis was right, letting him go may have been a mistake.

“I’m sure he’ll be fine, they probably didn’t even notice”

“I don’t know Porthos…”

“It’ll be fine. Anyway they’re probably all off laughing to themselves about how slow the police are nowadays, not being able to catch up to anyone.”

“Maybe. First we need to go get those tapes then get back and tell Athos.”

* * *

Two streets away from the shopping centre, Felix had told them all to slow down, “Running just makes you look suspicious, walk quickly and keep your head down.”

D’Artagnan knew that they weren’t at risk of being followed by the police, but he wasn’t about to say anything. He’d seen Felix eyeing him dubiously as they ran away and knew it wouldn’t be long before he was telling Vadim everything.

By the time they reached the library, they were no longer concerned about the police and instead were all talking excitedly about what had happened.

The three that they’d gone with had clearly done this before, but they were all only in their late teens and the adrenaline still coursing through their veins appeared to be making them giddy.

“But when that cashier actually asked me if I wanted to try one on, and then when the other one spotted d’Artagnan I almost had a heart attack” Louis giggled.

“Oh my god, it’s like when we broke into that old guy house the other week, when he saw us and I thought he was gonna kill us all with that vase,” Pierre continued.

Seeing them so happy made d’Artagnan laugh, regardless of it being about the crimes they’d committed.

Felix on the other hand had not said a word the whole way back. D’Artagnan tried not to worry about it. It was inevitable that he was going to tell Vadim, he was just going to have to deal with it when the time came.

* * *

“What was he even doing in the shopping centre in the first place?!”

Aramis had lost the game of rock, paper, scissors that he and Porthos had played outside of their office door to decide who would break the news to Athos.

But as the pair had needed to call in other officers to deal with the shop’s more recent break in, their friend was already well aware of what had happened.

“And stealing? What if it had been another officer outside of that store? What if he’d been caught? Is he trying to get himself killed?”

“Well, I think it’s quite impressive that he actually managed to do it. Wouldn’t expect it from the lad would ya?”

“Porthos, I hardly think it’s something he should be proud of.”

“Look, if Vadim told him to do it, he could hardly have said no could he.” Aramis supplied.

“This is exactly why I didn’t want him doing this in the first place.” Athos said, sitting back down on his chair.

“Athos, he can take care of himself and I reckon he’s probably doing a good job at fooling Vadim.”

“Yeah, if he doesn’t get caught out now that is,” Aramis added solemnly.

Athos gave him a questioning look.

“There was a slight situation that occurred…”

* * *

Vadim was very happy to hear that d’Artagnan had succeeded in stealing the jewels, but less so when Felix mentioned that he needed to talk to him.

D’Artagnan tried to act nonchalantly whilst sitting with the other boys, listening to more of their stories, but every time he glanced over to the table in the corner he could see Vadim’s suspicious eyes watching him with Felix angrily ranting to him.

After a good hour, d’Artagnan was called over by Vadim. Passing Felix and his irritating smirk, d’Artagnan took the vacated seat.

“Good job today, I must say I wasn’t entirely confident you were going to do it, but it seems you’ve successfully proved yourself.”

Vadim took a moment to look at the bracelets that were in front of him before continuing.

“However,” he said, looking back up, “I’ve been informed of some details that don’t quite make sense.”

“And what might that be?” D’Artagnan asked, feigning all knowledge of what he was talking about.

“You see d’Artagnan, I’ve only known you for two days so I can’t say that I trust you yet, but I believed you were going to be a good addition to my crew. So when I hear that a police officer let’s you go, I can’t help but be slightly concerned…”

D’Artagnan gestured towards Felix, “Is that what he was talking to you about?”

Vadim dipped his head in confirmation, encouraging d’Artagnan to continue.

He took a moment to get the story straight in his head.

“I know him, the police officer. Not personally or anything, but I’ve been arrested by him quite a few times in the past.”

Vadim was watching him carefully, clearly assessing everything he was saying.

“I was just quite shocked to see it was him chasing me and I guess he stopped for the same reason.” 

“Okay.” Vadim nodded, “I knew there would be an explanation for it.”

“So, it’s all good?” D’Artagnan asked, surprised that Vadim believed him so easily.

“Of course,” Vadim smiled, “and now that’s cleared up you should get to bed. We’ve got an early start tomorrow.”

“Sure,” D’Artagnan replied warily, noting that he was probably already late to checking in, “I just need to pop out quickly, my girl’s expecting me so I should go and let her know I’m needed here.”

“No can do I’m afraid,” Vadim stated, “don’t take it personally, I don’t let anyone leave the night after a job. Better to be safe than sorry.”

“Right, yeah, of course,” d’Artagnan acknowledged that he was being dismissed and so went back and joined the boys who had moved from telling stories at the table to playing cards in their sleeping areas.

Looking back at Vadim, d’Artagnan watched as he dead-bolted the locks and positioned his chair in front of the door.

There was definitely no getting out tonight.

* * *

Tonight was Aramis’ turn to pace needlessly up and down the room. “He’s late.”

Athos didn’t even look up from the book he was reading to give his reply, “He's fine.” 

“No, something’s happened to him I know it has. They saw me let him go. They know that he’s working for us. I shouldn’t have let him carry on running. It’s my fault.”

“Aramis,” Athos closed the book. He’d read the same page three times now and hadn’t been able to take anything in whilst his friend was still ranting, “Will you calm down, nothing has happened to him, and like you said yourself, he’s always late.”

“Oh I’m sorry, have you forgotten about your little outburst in the office today? And wasn’t it only last night that you were worried because he was late checking in?”

“Yeah and wasn’t it only last night that you told me I was being paranoid and overly protective and that I needed to calm down because he was going to call at some point.”

Aramis sat down next to Porthos on the double sofa. Leaning forward he rested his head in his hands, letting out a long sigh. “I don’t like this. This whole entire mission, it’s so- …we have no idea what’s going on whilst d’Artagnan’s away from us. I mean something could have happened to him hours ago and we have no way of knowing. We shouldn’t have let him go through with it.”

“First Athos, now you…You know the way you two keep talking anyone would think that you don’t trust the lad, that he’s incapable of doing anything by himself.”

Aramis was shocked at his friend’s naivety, “Porthos, anything could happen to him whilst he’s with those people!”

Porthos sighed before standing up and declaring he was going to make some tea for the three of them. “We’re all going to calm down and just wait and see what happens…and if we don’t hear word from him, _then_ we’ll decide what to do next…”


	4. Day 4

Early the next morning saw Athos sitting on a bench near the library, coffee in one hand, newspaper in the other.

He was sure d’Artagnan was fine, but the trio had decided that someone should check anyway, just to give them all peace of mind.

It also gave Athos the chance to think about the past few days. He was feeling better about d’Artagnan taking on the assignment now that he’d had a chance to observe the boy working on his own.

He was doing a lot better than expected and Athos had to admit to himself that maybe he was being too protective over the boy.

Usually he was quite a reserved person, so it came as quite a shock to Athos - and Porthos and Aramis for that matter - the protectiveness he felt over d’Artagnan since he joined. For god’s sake the boy tried to kill him when they first met! But ever since then, something had changed and he wasn’t sure he liked that someone could worm their way into his heart so easily. 

Noticing some movement outside of the library, Athos was given an excuse to lock his emotions away again. The bench was on the other side of the road facing the building and just far away enough that nobody would really pay that much attention to him.

Unfortunately it also meant that he wouldn’t be able to hear what anyone was saying, but he was waiting with the hope that he wouldn’t need to. All he needed was for d’Artagnan to come outside so that Athos could see he was alright.

A few men Athos didn’t recognise exited the building. They remained huddled, talking for a few minutes, before leaving, two going in one direction, two going in the other.

Athos didn’t have long to wonder what they might be up to before the front door opened again. This time he recognised the face. Vadim.

He observed as the man took out a cigarette and quickly lit it. He looked calm, not worried that anyone might be onto him.

Not even thirty seconds later, the man Athos had been hoping to see opened the door.

D’Artagnan didn’t even notice Athos as he started talking to Vadim, but Athos didn’t care. D’Artagnan was alive and okay and quite clearly continuing to take the assignment seriously, and that was all he needed to see.

Taking the opportunity to leave whilst the two were distracted, Athos threw his half-empty coffee cup in the nearby bin and headed to the car he had parked down the next street. 

* * *

When d’Artagnan woke he noticed that most people were already up and busy as usual. Vadim still hadn’t told him when the robbery was taking place but if the work everyone was doing was anything to go by, it was happening soon.

Speaking of Vadim, d’Artagnan watched as he headed outside and quickly decided to follow him, though he soon ended up sprawled back on the floor after getting tangled up in his blanket in his eagerness to find out more from the man.

“Morning,” Lucie giggled sleepily from her spot next to him.

D’Artagnan rolled his eyes and smiled back, wishing her ‘good morning’ before following Vadim out the door.

Finding him just outside the door, d’Artagnan greeted the man and asked what his job would be today.

“I’m glad you asked Christophe,” came the reply, “I’ll need you to help Lucie get some supplies, then we’ll sit down and I’ll explain the plan to you.”

_Finally!_

“Sounds good,” d’Artagnan replied, keen to still sound eager.

“Go get ready and I’ll let you two know what you’ll need to get for me.”

D’Artagnan nodded and headed back inside, stifling a cough from the cigarette smoke Vadim had rudely let out in his face.

* * *

Everyone was hard at work when Athos arrived at the station, buzzing around like devoted little worker bees. The Festival Of The People was only a few days away and they still had quite a bit to organise. It was a French national holiday and the streets of Paris were going to be filled with people. Nobody stayed at home during the festival. This meant police presence on the streets would need to be upped for security reasons and everybody was to be on duty that day. Not that anyone really minded.

It was a fun celebration - even for those on duty - with music and food and people dancing everywhere you looked. More often than not the younger officers would get roped into helping out on a stall or end up dancing with a group of excited little old ladies and at least one person would return to the station covered head to toe in luminous paint.

Unfortunately this also meant that anybody who was on another assignment had double the work to do for a little while. Which is why Athos was unsurprised to find Aramis and Porthos sitting with some of the newer officers in the break room rather than in their office.

“…don’t worry Brujon, you’ll know her when you see her,” Porthos was informing the young cadet.

“Yeah and when she tells you to do it, make sure you listen to her, she might be old but she’s quick!” Aramis added, “…like some grandma ninja!”

Sensing a good time to stop the conversation before it went too far, Athos interrupted his friends, “so you’re the reason why I keep having to deal with Marguerite traumatising cadets at the festival every year.”

“Oh come on Athos, she’s a 92 year old woman, she’s harmless.” Porthos laughed.

“She’s been arrested twice in the past month alone for streaking!” Athos replied, “and Brujon, if she gives you the whole _‘I prefer a man out of uniform’_ speech, please just keep your clothes on!”

Aramis and Porthos couldn’t contain their laughter at the look on Brujon’s face. The poor boy didn’t know whether to be concerned or terrified.

Athos smiled at the boy, “go on, go see if Marcus has anything for you to do.”

“Yes sir,” Brujon laughed lightly before leaving.

Athos took the recently vacated seat at the table and turned to his friends.

“I saw d’Artagnan this morning. He looked okay. I think he slept in the library last night.”

Aramis and Porthos breathed a sigh of relief, happy that they wouldn’t have another thing to worry about.

“Did he find out anything about the plans yet?” Aramis asked.

“I don’t know, he was with Vadim so I couldn’t go and talk to him. But I think for today we should focus on the festival and let him get on with his job. Then tonight, if we manage to talk to him, we’ll find out what he knows.” Athos replied.

Treville chose this moment to make an appearance, “I trust you three still have the Vadim assignment in hand?”

“Yes sir.” Athos assured him.

“Good, because I’m going to need your help with this festival stuff.” He sat down at the table with them and laid his paperwork down for them all to see. “I’m putting all of the cadets on parade duty all day, so they can gain experience of dealing with large groups of people, but I want more experienced officers out with them.”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Athos confirmed for the three of them.

Treville began adding to his notes, “Okay, so Aramis and Porthos, I’m putting you on _Rue Saint-Honoré_ with Brujon, Marcel and Clare, then Athos I’m putting you and Marcus on _Rue du Pont-Neuf_ with Marie, Jean and Stefan. I’m going to have Michael, Bernadette, Anne and Sebastien out in the morning with the cadets as well, and then at lunchtime I’ll swap you all over.”

“Perfect, enough time to find me some ladies,” Aramis began, quickly noting the glare from Treville, “…to protect from any passing dangers…of course.”

Porthos sniggered, “Don’t worry mate, I’m sure Marguerite will be more than happy to see you.”

“Porthos, please, there _is_ a bar. It might be low, but it’s not _that_ low.”

“Um I’m sorry wasn’t it just last year I found the two of you in that ball pool-”

“Woah, woah, right I’m leaving before I hear something that’ll make me want to fire the pair of you.” Treville said, shaking his head as he walked away.

“What _were_ you and a 92 year old woman doing in the ball pool, Aramis?” Athos asked as Porthos struggled to contain his laughter and Aramis’ cheeks slowly grew more red.

* * *

D’Artagnan and Lucie had spent the best part of the morning collecting a range of supplies for Vadim.

He’d sent them on an hour’s walk to pick up smoke grenades from some big burly guy - the type you wouldn’t want to cross in a dark alley. Then another half an hour for some rope, gloves and a glass cutter from the (not so local) hardware store. They weren’t allowed to take the bus.

“You know he’s only doing this to _assert his authority_ ,” Lucie commented as they entered the store. “He must have hundreds of supplies like this from all the other jobs, but he still sends someone out every time. It’s ridiculous.”

“Do I detect a hint of resentment there Lucie?” D’Artagnan joked.

“Look, he took me in and I’d do anything for the guy, but that doesn’t mean he’s easy to work for. He doesn’t tell us anything about the job, he even doesn’t need any of this rubbish, he just likes making us do what he wants.”

D’Artagnan was surprised to hear this, he’d thought everyone looked up to Vadim.

“I thought you were all some big family, looking out for each other?”

“Yeah we might be some big dysfunctional family, but let’s just say if we were all in a burning building, Vadim would get himself out and wouldn’t look back…He doesn’t care about any of us, not really. You’ll learn that soon enough if you decide to stick around after this job.”

* * *

It was clear to d’Artagnan that Lucie didn’t want to talk about it anymore, so he didn’t bring it up again as they bought the supplies and headed back to the library.

He was eager to get back and finally find out the plan, then the others might actually be able to get some work done and stop Vadim before it was too late.

Lucie went in first, dumping the bag on the table without saying a word. Vadim gave her a questioning look, but said nothing.

“We got you what you wanted.” D’Artagnan stated as he strolled over to the table and took the seat opposite Vadim.

“So I see,” Vadim said before gesturing to one of the stools. “I guess it’s time for you to know the plan.”

D’Artagnan nodded in agreement, taking a seat.

“We’re going in tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?!” That was way too soon! D’Artagnan still needed to get word to the others and sort out how they were going to stop the whole thing. “But it’s the day of the festival?”

“Exactly. It’s the perfect opportunity.”

“But isn’t that a bit soon?”

“Don’t worry Christophe, we were planning this long before you arrived, you were just a useful addition to the plan.”

Vadim went on to explain everything in detail. Tomorrow morning they were to split into two groups. Zoe, Lucie, Felix, Pierre and Louis were going to the front of the museum. The Louvre was closed on public holidays so there would already be less security and with the festival always came fights and public disturbances. So the five of them were to create a distraction big enough to at least attract the security on the doors. This would give d’Artagnan and Vadim less to worry about.

Then the two of them were to go in through the back. The smoke grenades were to distract the remaining guards and the rope was to tie up any who got in the way. They would make their way to the room with the _La Rose et Les Nymphéas_ and carefully cut the glass encasing it and take it off the wall. Marc was in charge of cutting all alarm systems so they should be able to retrieve it without tripping any sensors. They would then get out and get it back to the library as soon as possible.

With a plan so simple, there was a lot that could go wrong, but Vadim wouldn’t hear of it. Either that, or he just didn’t want to tell d’Artagnan any more than that.

“I sent Pierre and Louis to the museum today, they’ve double checked everything. We know where all the cameras are, the alarm system and guards shifts. Nothing can go wrong.”

“Okay, well what do we do after we get it back here?”

“That Christophe, is for me to know and you to find out. Should you play your part correctly.” Vadim smiled.

* * *

That afternoon Vadim had let everyone go out for some fun. He said he wanted them in good spirits, ready for the big day tomorrow.

D’Artagnan had wondered why he would risk them all getting drunk or staying out all night, but Lucie had assured him that he did this every time. They couldn’t always celebrate afterwards if the police were on their tails.

Fortunately for d’Artagnan though, this provided the perfect opportunity for him to pass on the intel he’d gained. 

He left the others on the way to some pub and headed back to his flat, eager to call the others.

* * *

Porthos had been sitting in the break room when the video chat had popped up on Athos’ laptop. 

He was actually going to ignore the ringing notification in favour of continuing watching the tv, but then he noticed who was calling.

“Athos!” he shouted towards the doorway, before clicking _accept_.

The video feed took a moment to clear up properly, but after a few seconds he could see d’Artagnan, sitting on his sofa.

“Hey Porthos! Sorry I’m…early,” the boy said, grinning, which made Porthos laugh.

“Time-keeping really is a bad habit with us lot. Are you okay? We were worried about you yesterday.”

Before d’Artagnan could answer, Athos, Aramis and Treville appeared at the doorway.

“You hollered.” Aramis said as he entered the room.

Porthos nodded at the laptop, “d’Artagnan’s here.”

The three men exchanged surprised looks at each other before hurrying over to the laptop.

“D’Artagnan…” Athos breathed, happy to see the boy safe and unharmed.

“Hey,” d’Artagnan greeted, “Listen, I’m sorry about last night, I wasn’t allowed out.”

“No, no that’s fine, we’re just glad you’re okay… _Are_ you okay?”

D’Artagnan nodded, “Yeah, just really eager to get this over and done with now. Vadim’s told me everything, we’re going in tomorrow…”

D’Artagnan went on to tell them the plan. How a group of them would be at the front to create a distraction, how someone would be cutting the alarms, and how he and Vadim were in charge of getting the painting. He gave detailed descriptions of the tools Vadim was going to take and explained all the preparation that had been untaken already.

Listening to d’Artagnan, Athos felt so proud of the boy. He’d gained more information than they could have hoped for.

“This does mean we’re going to have to change the plan for tomorrow then…” Aramis commented, glancing at Treville.

“I’ll sort it,” Treville nodded before asking d’Artagnan, “does Vadim know anything about where the police presence is based tomorrow?”

“No, he knows that there’s gonna be police around tomorrow and he’s expecting some to be near the Louvre, but that’s all…”

This was good news for them. Everything could be planned around the intel they now had, allowing d’Artagnan to continue as normal and focus on not getting caught out by Vadim.

Treville left the four of them talking as he went to update the other officers.

“We still need to get an earpiece and microphone to him before tomorrow,” Porthos reminded his friends.

Athos nodded, “I’ll deal with it.”

He was still wary about giving them to d’Artagnan. If Vadim caught sight of either, even for just a second, d’Artagnan’s cover could be blown. But he knew he was just overly worrying about the boy again, it was protocol for them all to have this equipment when on assignments like this as it was important for them all to be able to stay in contact with each other.

With no more to discuss about tomorrow, d’Artagnan said goodbye to his friends, returning him to the silence of his flat, whilst the others went in search of Treville to see what changes had been made.


	5. Day 5 Part 1

“Treville says he’s sent a few people to the van already to keep a look out.” Porthos said, joining Aramis as he was gearing up.

The two of them had arrived at the station early, helping Treville with the cadets and ensuring that everyone knew what they were doing.

It wasn’t the best timing, having a grand-scale festival and major op happen on the same day. There was never enough police presence on days like this and normally this wasn’t too much of an issue, violent outbreaks successfully being kept at a minimum. But with two big jobs going on at the same time, even they had to admit they were feeling a little stretched.

Aramis looked over at the cadets who were preparing to join the officers already out on the streets.

Despite not having all of the details, they all had a rough idea of what was going on with the Vadim situation and knew that, depending on how things went, they might be short-staffed on the streets and have to deal with any problems that arose themselves.

He still remembered his first time on patrol at a festival. The doubts that had been running through his head, _what if there’s too many people, what if I can’t control the crowds, what if someone gets hurt,_ but looking at the cadets now, he was proud to see their little determined faces.

“Surely Vadim won’t try it for another couple of hours right?” Aramis spoke up.

“Yeah he’ll probably want the crowd to grow a bit first.” Porthos added, practically reading his mind.

“After today we’ll finally have him behind bars.” Aramis nodded to himself, glad that the whole stupid job would soon be over. D’Artagnan had only been with Vadim for a few days but it already felt like this whole thing had started a lifetime ago.

“Yeah, that’s if we actually manage to catch him this time.” Porthos commented, watching as more officers left to join their colleagues.

“Don’t jinx it! Anyway, isn’t all this maybe a bit much? I mean Vadim’s only one guy and all he’s doing is trying to steal a painting, it’s not like he’s planning mass murder or anything.”

Porthos replied, not looking up as he concentrated on securing his vest. “Now who’s jinxing it? There’s a reason we’ve been after Vadim for this long. We might think we know his whole plan, but I guarantee you he’s got some added surprise up his sleeve. He’s a sneaky little bastard. Plus it’s never just him. He might be the lead, but he’s got his whole wormy crew to back him up.”

“You know, next time I need some reassurance that everything’s going to be okay, I’m definitely not coming to you.” Aramis said, deadpan. 

Porthos laughed before quietly adding, “He’s gonna be okay. Whatever goes down today, our boy’s gonna be okay.”

* * *

The festival was in full swing by the time Athos had returned from dropping off the equipment for d’Artagnan.

D’Artagnan hadn’t given them a time of when Vadim’s plan was going to take place, so they knew they had to be ready at any time.

Weaving his way past the festival go-ers, Athos spotted his friends talking to a small group of teenagers sporting some very brightly coloured attire. The young girls of the group seemed very eager to give the officers the flower crowns they had been wearing on their heads.

As Athos approached he could hear them giggling. 

“See, a bit of colour can’t hurt!” a sweet looking brunette laughed as she got down from her friend’s back - the extra height having helped her fulfil her mission.

“It can when they’re on duty…” Athos commented.

The young girl turned to face him, appearing quite nervous all of a sudden.

Athos hated when that happened. Where the others were always able to make the public feel comfortable enough to have a laugh with them, he always seemed to make people anxious. Maybe it was the commanding tone of his that he could never shake off.

“Athos, leave them alone, they’re not doing any harm,” Aramis smiled at him.

“I know,” Athos smiled back before turning to the girl, “thank you for the flowers, I’m sure it’ll give the boys back at the station something to laugh about.”

The girl gave him a wide grin before finding herself being pulled away down the street by her friends who were already eager to get on.

“Did it go okay?” Aramis asked, taking the flower crown off his head, but keeping hold of it.

“Yeah,” Athos replied simply, before leading them down the road.

They smiled at many of the passers by as they were walking.

They were waved at by a stall owner they had helped out last month.

They bumped into Brujon and Marcel, glad to see they were handling everything okay.

They spotted Marguerite at one of the stalls but were quickly shepherded away by Aramis before she caught a glimpse of them.

They didn’t see Vadim.

Or his followers.

Or d’Artagnan.

* * *

Positioned down a side road next to the museum was a black van, seemingly inconspicuous alongside other cars that had been parked nearby. Yet what couldn’t be seen inside were the three police officers frivolously keeping tabs on nearby activity for any hints that Vadim’s plan had begun.

Porthos opened the back door and ushered the others inside.

“Vadim’s on the move, they left about ten minutes ago, haven’t got much more than that at the moment,” Elodie informed them as they entered, nodding to the waveform on the monitor in front of her.

The lack of activity on the screen supported what she was saying and some low murmurings on top of a slight crackling was all that could be heard from one of the speakers.

At least d’Artagnan’s microphone was working.

“Has there been any problems yet? Any unrest outside the museum?” Athos asked, surveying the aerial maps of the town that had been brought up on another screen.

“Not as of yet, as far as we know they all left the library at the same time,” Dominic replied.

“And there’s some officers already stationed inside for when they do show up.” Annabelle added, looking up from her screen.

“So now we wait…” Porthos said, looking over at Aramis.

The two of them always hated waiting. Despite their admired ability to put off doing any ounce of work in the office, they were the types of people who found themselves getting restless and irritable very easily if they didn’t have something to do (or something they should be doing), especially out in the field.

So much so that Athos had activity refused to be partnered with either of them in the past if they were ever required for a stake-out.

But this time it was different. Both of them could sense in the other that something about that had shifted slightly. This time they weren’t just eager to get the job sorted, they were eager to get their boy home. And the longer that took, the more possibilities there were for anything to happen.

Suddenly, Vadim’s voice could be heard through the speakers making them all alert.

The beginning of the end had begun.

* * *

D’Artagnan had awoken early that morning, feeling jittery and quite eager to get the day over with. A feeling, he realised, he’d been having a lot lately.

He discreetly fitted the earpiece and microphone that Athos had dropped off for him before heading out the door

By the time he reached the library, Vadim was ready to go. The other guys were hanging around the place as well, but he could see that they were all ready to leave as soon as Vadim said the word.

When Vadim spotted him standing in the doorway he gave him a simple nod before calling Felix over and whispering something in his ear.

D’Artagnan eyed them suspiciously but chose to think nothing of it, knowing that whatever was going on, he was probably never going to find out anyway.

Vadim then called the others over before walking straight past d’Artagnan, out through the front door.

Little was said during the short journey to the festival. D’Artagnan stayed at the back of their small group, Lucie keeping close to his right. He noticed how strangely quiet she was being, nerves keeping her from rambling on as she had often done, and realised for the first time since meeting her just how young she really was and how the outgoing and outspoken personality of hers was so easily reversed.

The group slowed as they reached the point where they would separate.

Ahead, the festival could be seen in full swing.

Vadim stepped closer to Felix, intensely looking him in the eyes as if trying to determine one last time whether he could be trusted or not, “You know what to do.”

Felix nodded in response before leading his group towards the growing mass of people.

“Christophe, with me.” Vadim didn’t spare a glance in his direction as he walked away.

As they were heading their separate ways, Lucie looked back to give him a little thumbs up, mouthing _good luck_ , and d’Artagnan couldn’t help but smile.

Whatever happened to Vadim after today, he really hoped that Lucie would be okay. In the short time he had known her, he deeply believed that she was a good person. A good person given a bad hand in life. If caught, he knew that she would have to be tried according to the crimes she was committing, but really, she didn’t deserve to lumped with criminals like Vadim.

“What we are about to accomplish will go down in history forever,” Vadim suddenly spoke up.

Bit overdramatic, but sure, if that’s what Vadim thought.

D’Artagnan followed behind him as he was talking. He had briefly seen the route that Vadim planned to take them but he wasn’t too sure of the exact roads that led them to the back entrance of the museum. He was more than happy to let Vadim lead the way.

Observing the names of the streets they were passing he realised just how strange it was to see the streets so empty. He could hear the echo-y cheers erupting from the festival and thought about just how unaware those people were about what was going on. He hoped they were all having fun.

Before he could ponder on it more, Vadim turned a corner and brought d’Artagnan out of his thoughts. He hadn’t been listening to a word Vadim was saying.

“-has been an honour to include you in this d’Artagnan.”

Vadim really thought it was an honour? He hadn’t even been working with him for that long.

_“Wow, this guy talks more than me.”_

D’Artagnan had to stifle a laugh. _Dear god, Aramis please stop or I’ll blow my cover._

Vadim turned down a left road.

_“Is he there yet? D’Artagnan, are you there yet?”_

_“Porthos stop putting him off. Keep going d’Artagnan.”_

D’Artagnan fought with the urge to fiddle with his earpiece. He forgot how off-putting it was to have people talking to you through those things when you were trying to concentrate.

His friends were nervous. He knew it was because they cared about him and wanted him to be safe, but right now they were really starting to make him feel uneasy.

“You see d’Artagnan, I’m very proud of this trick. To fool this many people, it’s something I never thought I would be able to accomplish.”

D’Artagnan couldn’t see his face, but he could tell that he was smirking.

He couldn’t wait for Vadim to just get caught already. The criminal thought he was so smart and that nothing could go wrong for him. D’Artagnan wanted to finally wipe the smug look off his face.

D’Artagnan was starting to pay less attention to what Vadim was saying and was focusing more on his surroundings. He wasn’t quite sure where they were but he was certain they weren’t following the planned route. In fact, weren’t they heading in the complete opposite direction to the museum?

Before he could ask if they were going the right way, Vadim noticed him faltering. 

“This way, d’Artagnan.”

Turning the corner, d'Artagnan wondered if, actually, all of his hard work undercover had just led him down a dead end. Literally. There was no painting, no back entrance to the museum, just an alley way blocked off by a brick wall.

The earpiece crackled again before Porthos’ worried voice came through loud and clear. _“D’Artagnan, how does Vadim know your name?”_

D’Artagnan froze, realisation washing over him.

Vadim knew.

“Give it to me.”

D’Artagnan looked up to see that Vadim had stopped. 

“Take them out and give them to me now!”

He could hear that Athos was still talking to him but he was too focused on the man in front of him to notice what was being said. He knew he had to comply with Vadim. He pulled the earpiece out of his ear from under his hair and unclipped the microphone, handing them both over. Vadim quickly snatched them out of his hand and threw them to the floor before smashing them completely with his heavy boot.

D’Artagnan lifted his chin and defiantly made eye contact with the man in front of him. “It doesn’t matter what you do to me Vadim, you’ve already failed. I told them everything,” he spoke up confidently.

“Well it’s a shame you sent them to the wrong place then, isn’t it?”

D’Artagnan’s face fell. “What?”

“I saw right through you the moment you introduced yourself to me. You’ve told the Musketeers exactly what I wanted you to tell them.”

“No…” d’Artagnan whispered in disbelief.

“I’ve been playing you d’Artagnan.” Vadim taunted, smirking ever so slightly. “It’s just a shame you weren’t paying attention. The secret to a good trick?”

“Make people look the wrong way,” d’Artagnan whispered to himself, puzzle pieces finally clicking into place. “This was your plan right from the start. You never intended to steal the painting.”

Vadim gave him a surprised looked. “Obviously not. I’m a little insulted you and your friends even bought that story. A painting? Seriously? No, you see, the real plan was put into action weeks ago and in one hour’s time I will finally get what I’ve always wanted.”

“And what’s that?” D’Artagnan asked. But Vadim didn’t answer his question. Only smiled.

“The others - Felix, Lucie - they’re probably all at the museum by now, distracting your stupid little friends.”

“They’ll figure out what you’re doing,” D’Artagnan told him, unwilling to give up. 

“Maybe, but when your precious Musketeers finally work out what’s going on they’ll have a choice to make won’t they? Stop me, or save you.”

“Save me?” d’Artagnan questioned before spotting the shiny glint of metal being concealed in Vadim’s palm.

Suddenly d'Artagnan knew he was going to have a fight on his hands. This was his moment, his moment to prove that he was going to complete his mission and take down the target.

Vadim slowly stalked towards him, gripping the knife upright, allowing d'Artagnan to see just how big the weapon was. “You didn’t actually think I was just going to let you go did you?”

Taking a breath and poising himself, d'Artagnan was the first to make a move.  
He kicked high, aiming for Vadim's hand, but Vadim had anticipated this move as he quickly threw the knife from his right hand to his left and before d'Artagnan could balance himself again, Vadim had kicked him in the side, knocking him to the floor.

Luckily D'Artagnan had managed to get his hands to the ground before his head hit the floor and he was able to push himself to his feet in a matter of seconds.

Lowering his body slightly and holding his fists up to guard his face, d'Artagnan prepared himself again. He could practically hear Athos' voice in his head, _no more of this impulsive behaviour of yours. Your recklessness could mean the failure of this assignment._ He had to focus.

Taking in his mentor's wise words, d'Artagnan took a second to confirm to himself his strategy.

As Vadim went to make another move, d'Artagnan kicked again, this time aiming for the other man's knee cap and he was rewarded with a loud yelp from Vadim before he fell back, gripping his knee.

Without a second thought d'Artagnan jumped straight onto Vadim, grabbing his left wrist and whacking it on the ground beside his head several times before the knife fell out of his grip. 

Realising that he was losing, Vadim retaliated. Head butting the boy forcefully left d'Artagnan dazed for a few seconds and gave Vadim the opportunity to reach for the knife again. His fingers were so close they were practically touching the metal, but as he couldn't reach he instead chose to grip d’Artagnan's shoulders and tried to push him off.

Still disorientated from the blow to his head, d’Artagnan was slow to react. Vadim shoved the boy onto his side and reached towards the knife once more.

D’Artagnan’s eyes squeezed shut involuntarily as his vision swam slightly, his head pounding all of a sudden, but he knew he couldn’t stop now. He quickly jumped up and attempted to regain his footing.

But it was too late.

As d’Artagnan turned to face Vadim and deliver his next blow he felt a burning white hot pain in his side.

Unaware of what had happened he looked down to find the source of his pain and there it was. Embedded in his right side just above his hip was the knife he had been fighting to reach.

Still gripping the handle of the knife, Vadim was also staring at what he had just done. Obviously pleased with the outcome he smirked in amazement at the boy before pulling the knife out with a hard tug. 

D'Artagnan thought the pain beforehand was bad, but as the knife exited his body he could feel even more skin being broken, more of his insides being sliced, and his warm, red life-force was now free to pour out from inside of him. 

His hand shakily found its way to his side as he stumbled back, colliding with the wall behind him.

His knees gave out from under him and he slowly slid down the wall until he was on the floor.

Vadim, knowing that the man in front of him would not be getting up again to stop him, felt happy to leave his victim where he was and get away before he was caught.

He adjusted his grip on the knife and turned back down the alley way, shuffling along as his newly acquired injuries made themselves very aware to him.

* * *

The surveillance van they were sitting in wasn’t as big as Athos had once remembered so he was quite glad when Dominic had left to take his position outside.

D’Artagnan hadn’t said much on his way to the festival but it wasn’t long before they heard the group split up.

“Right, they should reach the museum soon. Is everyone ready?” Elodie inquired, still hunched over her laptop.

They all murmured that they were as Annabelle leaned over Porthos’ shoulder to turn the microphone on and increase the volume of the speaker.

They could hear Vadim’s voice at a slight distance and noticed that d’Artagnan wasn’t saying a word.

_“I truly trust everyone who has been a part of this, they’ve come a long way with me, and I know you haven’t been with us for long, but I must say, it has been an honour to include you in this d’Artagnan.”_

Aramis started tapping his fingers on the table. “Wow, this guy talks more than me.”

Athos rolled his eyes at Aramis’ comment as Porthos leaned towards the microphone.

“Is he there yet? D’Artagnan, are you there yet?”

Athos hit him lightly on the shoulder, “Porthos stop putting him off. Keep going d’Artagnan.”

Porthos leaned back in his chair as his gaze wandered to Aramis raising his eyebrows as they both shared a smile.

_“You see d’Artagnan, I’m very proud of this trick. To fool this many people, it’s something I never thought I would be able to accomplish.”_

Aramis scoffed as he swivelled back and forth a little on his chair.

_“This way, d’Artagnan.”_

Porthos chuckled at Aramis’ complete disinterest of Vadim’s ramblings but then his face fell as he had finally realised something. He had been getting the feeling that something was off, but only now had it come to him, “D’Artagnan, how does Vadim know your name?”

Athos and Aramis turned to look at him and Porthos could see the second where it clicked for them too.

Athos leant forward and grabbed hold of the microphone, “d’Artagnan get away from him now!” He could feel his chest tightening. “How long has he known, we were so careful about everything!”

_“Give it to me…Take them out and give them to me now!”_

“No, no d’Artagnan, don’t give it to him, just run,” Aramis whispered, his eyes not leaving the screen as the waves spiked from the mic being handled. Static unexpectedly erupted through the speakers and the waveform flatlined.

“What the hell just happened?” Porthos asked, eyes not leaving the screen. Nobody had an answer.

One more day and it was all supposed to be over. D’Artagnan was supposed to be back home with them.

But  Vadim had known. Had he known the entire time? Was this entire thing actually a trap for them? And if so, what did Vadim really have planned? 

Athos was trembling, the small surveillance van feeling even smaller.

Aramis thought back to the young girls with the flower crowns, were they safe? Was anyone at the festival safe? They had underestimated Vadim. Again.

Now anyone could be hurt because of them. 

D’Artagnan could be hurt because of them.

Athos got up without a word, grabbed one of the standard issue guns that was on the side and forced open the doors.

Aramis and Porthos didn’t need to be told to follow him.

* * *

Vadim staggered down the street, blood still dripping down the knife clutched in his hand. He didn’t care that people were staring at him as he passed, watching with fear in their eyes. He had done what he had to do.

He had almost reached the town square where they’d never be able to find him amongst all the people there. A few more steps and he’d be free forever.

He should have walked quicker.

Feeling the cool metal of a pistol pressed against the back of his head made him stop walking and hearing the pistol cock made him freeze completely.

“Turn around.” Athos’ gruff voice gave the instruction that Vadim knew he should follow.

He turned to face the trio, putting his hands up slowly to show that he was no threat.

How he momentarily forgot about the knife in his hand he’ll never know.

He knew in that split second that he wasn’t going to get out of it easily now, so he might as well turn the situation around to his advantage.

He swung the knife down towards Athos, ready to cut down anything in his path.

Athos was fully prepared to take Vadim down there and then, but seeing that the knife was covered in blood made him think otherwise. He jumped back, out of the way of the impending sharp object, before recovering quickly and bringing his gun up to aim at Vadim’s head once more.

Fixated on the red dripping off the blade, Athos knew he should be doing something, asking questions, but he couldn’t find his voice, a thousand scenarios running around his brain of what could have happened. All of them involving d’Artagnan being hurt.

Needing answers, Porthos stepped forward, his gun also pointed at Vadim, “What did you do Vadim?” he demanded.

“What I should have done days ago.” He replied, causing Porthos and Aramis to share a worried look out of the corner of their eyes.

Hearing this, however, spurred Athos into action. He pushed Vadim into the brick wall behind him, pinning his hands to the side of his head, knocking the knife from his grasp. “Where is d’Artagnan, Vadim? What have you done to him?”

To anyone walking past Athos’ whispered question would not have seemed threatening at all, but Vadim could see the fury in his eyes, could see that this man was prepared to do anything to get his brother back.


	6. Day 5 Part 2

They had gotten lucky when finding Vadim.

Porthos didn’t really remember what had really happened. There had been a lot of frantic shouting down the radio about whether anyone had seen him or not. Someone - Athos he thinks - suggested heading to the museum’s back entrance where d’Artagnan and Vadim were supposed to have been and work from there.

Hearts pounding, they ran through the cobbled streets, heads turning at every corner they passed, hoping to catch a glimpse of the two men.

Aramis had been the one to spot Vadim as he almost reached the festival’s overflowing crowd. The relief at finding him did not overshadow the worry that d’Artagnan was nowhere to be seen.

Once Vadim had been apprehended, Porthos had radioed for backup, requesting officers to come to their location to take him into custody. Athos had tried to get d’Artagnan’s location from Vadim, but the man was stubbornly saying nothing whilst they waited.

As they watched a few fellow officers handcuff Vadim, Porthos’ phone started vibrating in his pocket.

Elodie didn’t even give him a chance to greet her before talking. _“Porthos listen, before you gave d’Artagnan his earpiece Treville had me fit it with a GPS device just in case we need it, but when Vadim broke it it went offline and stopped transmitting it’s location-”_

“Where are you going with this?” Porthos said, shaking his head, not understanding how this information was supposed to be helping them.

_“Well, luckily for us I know how to access and read the backup data and the device’s last known location is only a few streets away from where you are now! I’ll send the details to your phones.”_

“Oh Elodie, you’re a star, thank you!” he replied before hanging up.

Mere seconds later his phone pinged and, as promised, Elodie had sent d’Artagnan’s location.

They left immediately, trusting that Vadim would be taken back to the station right away.

Reaching the alley, Athos was the first to see d’Artagnan. He was sitting, unmoving, with his back against the wall, his body leaning slightly to the right, chin resting against his chest. Even from this distance the blood covering d’Artagnan’s front was visible.  His hands were resting on his lap, also covered in blood from where he had been pressing them against his side.  Seeing the state of his friend spurred Athos forward.

Dropping to his knees beside him, a choked "d'Artagnan?" was all he could manage, tears already filling his vision. A second later and Aramis had joined him.

Then Porthos reached d'Artagnan, shocked by what he saw, but he stayed standing guard behind the men, facing the end of the alley way should any of Vadim’s men unexpectedly come and attack them from behind.

Aramis lifted d'Artagnan's shirt slightly to see how bad the wound was. "Shit" he gasped, his hands quickly clasping at the boy's side to try to stop the blood.

Looking over his shoulder, he called to his friend, “Porthos! I need you to call an ambulance while I try and stop the bleeding.”

Turning back to his right, Aramis could see that Athos was staring at the blood that was flowing out of d'Artagnan, pooling around where he was sat.

"Athos." he said forcefully, drawing the man out of his daze "I need you to give me your hands."

Athos looked at Aramis, slightly confused, but proceeded to lift his hands in front of the man.

Aramis gently directed Athos' hands to the wound at d'Artagnan's side. "Keep them here, and press as hard as you can.”

Athos nodded in response and pressed down hard at the boy's side, noting absentmindedly that d’Artagnan hadn’t even flinched.

Now that his hands were free, Aramis proceeded to check d'Artagnan's pulse and breathing.

Letting out a breath of relief he started listing things off in head. _Right, he's got a pulse, it's slow but it's there. He’s breathing. It’s quite fast and shallow, that’ll be from the blood loss, but he_ is _breathing. Blood loss. That’s what’s going to kill him. He’s bleeding out. Deal with the blood loss._

D’Artagnan was slipping away right in front of them and there was nothing he could do to stop it. As he joined Athos’ hands pressing against the wound, he knew he had no choice but to wait for help to arrive.

* * *

By the time the ambulance had arrived, d’Artagnan’s skin was so pale compared to his usual olive colour, his breathing was slower and the blood was still fighting to leave him. Athos hadn’t let go of d’Artagnan’s side, terrified that if he took his hands away for even a second the boy’s heart would stop beating altogether. Aramis had remained crouching by d’Artagnan, occasionally checking his pulse to reassure himself, whilst Porthos had given up standing guard after the first minute. He was pacing the small alley way, still keeping a look out for any potential threats, trying to control the anger surging through him, unable to hide the fear in his eyes every time he looked over at d’Artagnan.

At the sight of the vehicle turning into the alley way, Porthos called over to Aramis to let him know. The ambulance came to an abrupt halt and the paramedics jumped out and made their way over. 

Athos was vaguely aware of their presence, of the fact that Aramis was explaining what had happened, but all of his focus was still on his friend in front of him. His hands were aching from how hard he had been holding d’Artagnan’s wound, the warm blood still dripping through his fingers, the strong coppery smell invading his nostrils. 

Suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder, but he didn’t dare take his eyes off the man in front of him.

“It’s okay Athos. You can let go now, they’re going to help him.” Aramis gently prised Athos’ fingers from d’Artagnan’s side, not missing the way his hands shook slightly. He helped his friend to stand up and gently directed him out of the way of the paramedics.

They watched as d’Artagnan was loaded into the ambulance and when asked if any of them would be riding with them, they only needed to share a look to confirm that it would be Athos.

“We’ll be right behind you,” Porthos had promised, gripping Athos’ shoulder tightly in support, before watching as they closed the doors and drove off.

Aramis and Porthos headed straight to the station, still feeling shaky from adrenaline, grateful that it was only a short walk away. Both of their cars were parked there and this way they could also inform Treville in person of what had happened and where they were heading.

* * *

Treville had been sitting at his desk waiting for one of his men to call and update the situation. He had just been informed that Vadim had been caught and that he was being brought in to the station, however, the fact that it hadn’t been either Athos, Porthos, Aramis or d’Artagnan on the other end of the phone had worried him greatly. He thought that they would’ve been the first to tell him, barely containing their excitement at finally having caught the criminal.

His worry dispersed when he heard Aramis’ voice echoing from the hallway into his office, but it wasn’t long until it returned again in full force. He wasn’t sure whether to be more concerned that it was only Aramis and Porthos standing in front of him or the fact that one of them was covered in blood. 

“What happened?” Treville demanded, as the men entered his office.

Porthos did most of the talking as he explained how Vadim had known that it was a setup, how d’Artagnan’s mic had gone offline and they hadn’t known what was happening, how they had found Vadim by some miracle, and how, when they had eventually reached d’Artagnan, it was almost too late. 

“Sir, we hate that we’d be leaving you four men down, but we really need to get to the hospital. Athos is there on his own, and-”

“Of course Aramis, go, we’ve got everything covered here. Just make sure to keep me updated.” Treville insisted.

They nodded, grateful at how understanding Treville was and headed to the car park, deciding to take Aramis’ vehicle due to it being the first of the two that they saw.

Not much was said during the journey, both of them deep in thought, but halfway there, Porthos stopped drumming his fingers on his knee and spoke up, “Do you think Athos is okay? The way he was, earlier…I’ve never seen him like that before.” 

“He’ll be fine,” Aramis remarked, “it was just the shock of it all. You know how protective he’s become of d’Artagnan. But he’ll be fine. He might be this close to falling apart right now, but he’ll be strong because d’Artagnan needs him to be.”

“I really hope you’re right.”

Once they arrived, they hastily walked up to the reception desk where Aramis took the lead. “Our friend, Charles d’Artagnan, he was brought in not too long ago.” The pretty blond receptionist quickly started typing information into the computer. Any other day and Aramis would’ve gotten distracted by her big blue eyes and good looks, would’ve made some flirty comment, or tried to show off. But not today.

“Ahh yes,” the receptionist replied, “he’s been taken into theatre, won’t be out for another couple of hours at least. You’re free to wait in the relatives room and I’ll get the doctor to come and speak to you once they’re finished.” She directed their attention to a room down the corridor on their right.

They found Athos waiting inside, looking up expectantly as the door opened.

“Just us I’m afraid,” Aramis smiled sadly at his friend, “you okay?” 

“Yeah,” Athos replied, unconvincingly, as Aramis and Porthos joined him on either side. “They haven’t told me anything yet. Just took him straight into theatre and told me to wait.”

For Athos, the waiting was always the worst part. Each second passed like rocks had replaced the sand in an hourglass, making the minutes last forever. Sitting there waiting had reminded him of when his brother died all those years ago. Their house had been broken into and Thomas had ended up being stabbed right in front of him. As he lay there, dying in Athos’ arms, the older man had known that there was nothing he could do and even though it had taken mere minutes, it felt like hours had passed before the light faded from his brother’s eyes _._

But that was years ago, they had both been so young. But not this time. This time, he was not going to lose another brother _._

* * *

An hour later saw the three men still in the room. Athos was pacing, unable to sit still, perfectly aware that Aramis’ eyes were following him. Porthos was in the corner sleeping lightly, an attempt to catch up on sleep that he was probably going to be too busy to get that night. It had been a long week for them and they were all aware that today was no longer going to be as short as they had previously anticipated.

Aramis couldn't take his friend worrying anymore. “Athos, why don’t you follow Porthos’ example and get some rest while you wait, knowing us lot, even if d’Artagnan ends up perfectly fine we’re not going to want to leave the boy’s side for even a second.”

“But d’Artagnan-”

“If I hear anything I’ll wake you. You’ll be no good to him if you’re dead on your feet and sick from worrying.”

Athos could see the logic in Aramis’ suggestion but he did not believe that he would be able to sleep whilst he was feeling like this and if he did, he feared that it wouldn’t be a nightmare-free slumber.

As Athos settled himself on a seat, Aramis watched to ensure that the older man would at least try to get some rest. The situation was hard on all of them, but he knew that it affected Athos the most. If d’Artagnan did not get through this, he was unsure of whether Athos would either. They’d all grown attached to the boy, his liveliness and vigour was hard not to love, but everyone knew that his bond with Athos was the strongest. The boy had looked up to him since he had started working with the Musketeers and despite originally protesting the idea, Athos had enjoyed having someone as close to him as his brother had once been. 

* * *

When the doctor finally graced them with his appearance they had been in the waiting room for just over three hours. Athos hadn’t stayed asleep for long, not that Aramis had actually expected him too, but he was thankful for the short time he had away from his worries of the real world. It had also now become Aramis’ turn to pace, unable to keep his worry contained. Porthos was still sitting in his seat, understanding that one of them needed to remain somewhat calm, knowing that his best friend and the boy’s mentor would be worrying enough for all three of them.

The sound of the door opening had all three men looking up eagerly as a middle-aged man walked through.

“Are you here for Charles d’Artagnan?” he asked the men.

Athos was up and at the doctor’s side in an instant. “Is he okay?” he questioned almost desperately.

The doctor shut the door behind him and led the men to sit back down.

“When he was brought in, he was in a bad way. He had lost a lot of blood and the knife just missed any major organs” Athos’ face paled dramatically at the thought of how bad it all could have been but forced himself to listen as the doctor continued, “It was close, but we were able to stabilise him. He’s now being moved to a side room.”

“Can we see him?” Porthos asked.

“Of course, I’ll ask one of the nurses to show you. He hasn’t woken up from the anaesthetic yet and when he does he’s going to be very weak for a while, but we’re hoping that with time he should make a full recovery.”

The three men thanked the doctor and allowed the door to close behind him.

Aramis let out a long breath as he sank back into his seat. “I really thought he was going to tell us he was dead.”

Athos nodded his agreement but couldn’t put his relief into words. All he needed now was to see d’Artagnan.

* * *

It wasn’t long before a nurse led the men to d’Artagnan’s room, taking them back past the entrance of the hospital where they witnessed the many sick and injured people still waiting to be looked at. 

A quiet elevator ride up and an eager walk down the corridor and they were outside the door. Taking a deep breath, Athos turned the handle and entered the room.

Seeing d’Artagnan for the first time since they’d found him bleeding out in an alleyway, he wasn’t sure if the boy looked better or worse than he had expected.

D’Artagnan was laying very still on his hospital bed, his complexion clearly paler than normal thanks to the blood loss. The bruises on his face very prominent. There were wires snaking from under his hospital gown leading to the nearby monitors that were displaying his heart rate and blood pressure. Other tubes were attached to his inner elbows and the back of one of his hands and a nasal cannula sat under his nose.

Athos knew that there was probably more bruises covering parts of his friend’s body that he couldn’t see, as well as the all important bandages covering the hole that shouldn’t be there, but he chose not to think about it.

All in all it looked bad. But it could have been worse. Athos knew how he could have ended up. The knife could have hit any number of vital organs and d’Artagnan could have been lying at death’s door right now - or not even have made it to the hospital at all. And that would have been too much for Athos to handle.

The three men each pulled up a chair and positioned themselves around the bed, Aramis and Porthos on one side, Athos on the other, fully prepared to stay right there in that room until their fourth woke up.

“Is he really gonna be okay?” Porthos asked no one in particular, still in shock from seeing the current state of d’Artagnan.

“Yeah. Yeah I think he actually will be. His heart rate and breathing’s normal and his colour is coming back. Considering he was stabbed he’s in pretty good condition. I actually think we might have been really lucky this time,” Aramis replied, gently taking hold of d’Artagnan’s hand. “You hear that you lucky little idiot, you’re gonna be okay, and we’re all gonna be here to help you get back on your feet after you get out of this place.”

“Yeah and then we’re gonna get you some more combat training because clearly your skills are getting rusty there mate,” Porthos added, him and Aramis laughing softly at this comment.

Athos had yet to say a word. Or take his eyes off d’Artagnan’s lax face for that matter. The consequence of this mission was something he never wanted repeated and though he knew deep down that his friend would be fine, he was desperate for his friend to wake up and confirm it himself.

“Athos stop.” Aramis said, pulling Athos from his thoughts.

He looked up from d’Artagnan and made eye contact with Aramis. He didn’t say anything, but then again he didn’t need to.

“I can see exactly what you’re thinking, so stop it right now.” Aramis continued.

“I should have stopped him.” Athos whispered after a moments pause, looking back at d’Artagnan. “I knew something was going to go wrong and I should have put an end to this stupid plan right from the start.”

“You couldn’t have known Athos, so stop blaming yourself. When d’Artagnan wakes up I guarantee he’ll be telling you exactly the same thing. It was his choice to go through with the mission. Besides he’s old enough to make his own decisions.”

"He's twenty-two! He’s-…Aramis, he’s only twenty-two. He’s barely even an adult."

Aramis wanted to reply, wanted to convince his friend that the blame didn’t fall on him despite knowing full well that he wouldn’t change Athos’ mind anytime soon, but one look at d’Artagnan stopped him. Lying on the bed, the boy did look so young and yes maybe it was his decision, but they still should have protected him better. 

“The only person who’s to blame is Vadim.” Porthos stated firmly with a tightness in his voice.  “And he’ll get what’s coming to him. Soon enough.”

* * *

D’Artagnan’s awareness came back slowly. 

Firstly, in the form of a somewhat dull ache. It was as if his entire body wanted to alert him immediately of the fact that something had happened, but at the same time he was vaguely aware that he should be feeling worse than he was. As if there was a syrupy substance within his body forming a kind of floodgate, keeping back the agony that would surely consume him were the gates to open.

Next, once his brain had accepted this irregularity, it allowed his other senses to return. He felt the scratchy sheets under his fingertips and something cool tickling his nose.

Quiet voices and a repetitive beeping then started creeping through, pulling him closer towards the surface. He couldn’t quite make out what the voices were saying but they made him think of someone. A face that was clear in his mind, with a name that was on the tip of his tongue.

His eyes blinked open and slowly adjusted to the overhead lights, his vision was slightly fuzzy as he took in his surroundings.

“Athos,” he whispered, not actually expecting an answer.

Athos leaned forward and brushed an errant strand of hair from d’Artagnan forehead, ignoring the fond looks from his friends. “We’re here d’Artagnan.”

D’Artagnan rolled his head to the side slightly, finally seeing his friend properly for the first time in a while, “Hey.”

Athos couldn’t help but smile as he watched the boy blink slowly, the remnants of sleep still clearly visible. Being mindful of the IV, he gripped d’Artagnan’s wrist in an attempt to ground him. “How are you feeling?” 

D’Artagnan took a moment to answer, willing the fuzziness to leave for long enough for him to string together a coherent thought. The more he thought about it, the more he realised how much he was hurting and whatever was on his face was getting annoying and causing his nose to itch.

“Everything’s sore,” he groaned quietly.

“Yeah you’re not gonna want to move too much any time soon- and don’t touch that.” Athos instantly reached for d’Artagnan’s hand as he gently pawed at the cannula. 

A stubborn frown crossed d’Artagnan’s features as he tried to recall what had happened to cause him to end up where he was. Slowly little snippets came back to him as well as a whole load of guilt over suddenly realising that he had let his friends down.

“I’m sorry.” d’Artagnan couldn’t bring himself to make eye contact with Athos, afraid to see the disappointment that he was sure would be there.

Athos’ eyebrows raised at this unexpected admission, “Sorry for what?”

“Vadim…I let Vadim get away.” 

D’Artagnan looked like he was on the edge of bursting into tears all of a sudden. Athos knew he couldn’t help it and it was probably because of the pain medication so he kept his voice gentle. “That’s okay, we found him.”

Aramis spoke up, “d’Artagnan you did so well, we’re so proud of you.”

D’Artagnan rolled his head to the other side, finding Aramis’ gentle eyes, and gave him a little awkward smile, the movement causing a tear to roll down his temple and disappear into his hairline.

“Really?” d’Artagnan asked, the remaining unshed tears making his eyes shine bright. Ordinarily he would have been filled with embarrassment at the innocent, child-like behaviour he was currently displaying, but in that moment his emotions seemed to be all over the place and his head was still too fuzzy for him to have even noticed.

“Really.” Aramis replied, squeezing the hand that he had yet to let go off.

D’Artagnan’s voice was soft as he spoke again. “Did you find out what he was actually planning?”

“So there _was_ something else?” Athos asked, not wanting to put pressure him, but knowing that if something else was going to happen they needed to be ready for it. “We haven’t spoken to him yet, but I had a feeling there might be.”

“Yeah, I think the whole painting thing with us was just a distraction for what he was really planning.”

“And what was that?” Porthos asked gently, noting how sleepy d’Artagnan still looked.

D’Artagnan blinked slowly, trying to recall exactly what Vadim had said to him. “Umm…He didn’t tell me what, but said something about how his actual plan had started a few weeks ago. Oh and that whatever it was, it was happening in an hour.”

“An hour? Well, that time’s come and gone. I can call Treville, see if he’s heard anything…What time would that have been anyway? About midday?” Aramis inquired.

“Yeah,” Athos replied, “besides, we’ve got Vadim so maybe we already stopped it?”

“He uhh…he didn’t…um…” d’Artagnan faltered, struggling to concentrate as his eyes dipped out of focus all of a sudden.

Aramis’ eyebrows furrowed as he asked d’Artagnan if he was okay.

“D’Artagnan?” Athos tried to get his attention, gently covering the boy’s hand with his own, but d’Artagnan was finding it hard to hear what was going on around him, let alone answer the question.

Without warning, his breathing sped up as a sudden tightness gripped his chest. His head felt like someone was trying to squeeze it until it burst and his insides felt like they were on fire.

Through the unexpected pain, he briefly noticed the worried looks of his friends. Then nothing.

D'Artagnan's eyes closed.

They closed and all the machines around him started beeping and Athos’ world slowed down.


	7. Day 5 Part 3

Aramis was up in seconds, putting his hands on the boy’s cheeks, “d’Artagnan, can you hear me?” He looked frantically at the various machines but was too overwhelmed with a sudden sense of panic to discern what any of it meant.

A doctor and small team of nurses quickly entered the room, having been alerted to the alarms, and immediately got to work trying to stabilise d’Artagnan. The three men were ushered out of the room, in too much of a state of shock to put up any protests.

From the hallway they continued to watch what was happening through the window into d’Artagnan’s room, not one of them saying a single word.

Athos couldn’t take his eyes off of d’Artagnan’s closed eyelids. He was trying to remain calm, yet it seems his heart hadn’t gotten the message, feeling like it was going at a million beats per second. D’Artagnan had deteriorated so suddenly. It all happened so fast. One minute he was fine, and the next he was dying all over again.

The doctor was scanning the set of notes at the foot of d’Artagnan’s bed whilst calling out orders. One of the nurses was checking the drip whilst another was fiddling with the machines. 

Numbers were called out and more orders were given but none of it meant anything to the three men waiting desperately for the machines to stop their incessant beeping. Porthos, who was in the middle of the three, silently found the two hands hanging by his own and grabbed hold of them. Aramis and Athos both gently squeezed back but neither of them stopped watching the inside of the busy hospital room.

The nurses stopped what they were doing for a moment, observing to see if their actions had aided the patient at all, but it quickly became clear that the deterioration was continuing as the shallow up and down movement of d’Artagnan’s chest decided to cease entirely.

The doctor moved swiftly to the head of the bed and lowered it, removing the cannula from under d’Artagnan’s nose.

“No…” Aramis whispered to himself. He knew what was coming, he had seen it happen before to many friends after missions gone _really_ wrong, but seeing it happen now made him suddenly find it harder to breathe. _Oh the irony._

The doctor gently tilted d’Artagnan’s head back and proceeded to feed the tube a nurse had just passed him down his patient’s throat. Tears silently rolled down Athos’ cheeks as he watched the doctor continue to set up the ventilator. 

The medical team paused again to watch the machines for any changes and thankfully a moment later when d’Artagnan’s vitals evened out the three men found it just that little bit easier to breathe again.

* * *

They had been allowed back into d’Artagnan’s room after the doctor had completed a series of tests to try and work out what had happened. Considering the fact that all signs had pointed to d’Artagnan making a full recovery after his surgery, this sudden decline was very concerning.

They hadn’t said much to each other, the sudden seriousness of the situation having left them at a loss for words. They just hoped that d’Artagnan knew somehow that they were by his side.

The continuous _whoosh_ of the ventilator was making Athos feel a bit sick and so he tried to focus instead on the quiet prayers that Aramis was saying. Athos had never considered himself a religious person but he was willing to believe in any powerful deity right now if it would help d’Artagnan. 

The doctor gave a gentle knock on the door, as to not startle the men, before entering.

The way they all sat up a bit straighter and looked at him hopefully gave him the sign to dive straight in and let them know what he had found. 

“So as you know, d’Artagnan suddenly deteriorating this quickly shouldn’t have happened according to his earlier test results, but the ones that we have just conducted _do_ explain why he is now unable to breathe on his own.”

He went on to explain how there was now a new chemical showing up in his blood that they had been unable to detect before. How this chemical was made up of components, some of which they were still unable to figure out, that was essentially some kind of poison. How this poison was attacking d’Artagnan’s cells and there was nothing they could do to stop it.

“We can help to partially fight the drug as it works its way through the body and try to keep d’Artagnan stable, but I don’t know how long his body is going to be able to withstand it for.”

“He’s going to die?” Porthos gasped, still trying to process what was being said.

“Not if we find the antidote,” the doctor quickly assured him, “this isn’t random, this is a chemically engineered poison, for which there has to be an antidote.”

“Well, can’t you just make an antidote here?” Aramis asked, hoping desperately for the answer to be _yes._

“Not whilst we don’t know the exact components that the poison is made up of. But if you happen to know how d’Artagnan got in contact with it…”

“Vadim.” Athos stated firmly, “He must have poisoned him back at the library somehow?”

“Or when he stabbed him? Maybe it was on the blade?” Aramis added.

“When it happened doesn’t matter, right now we just need to find the antidote.” Porthos rightly pointed out. “I’ll call Treville, he’ll get a confession out of Vadim.”

“No,” Athos cut him off, “I’ll go down there and get it out of him myself.” He stated as he marched out the door.

Aramis and Porthos shared a knowing look. “You better go with him,” the former suggested.

* * *

“What’s in the poison Vadim?” Athos demanded, slamming his hands on the table in front of the man.

Vadim was sitting in the questioning room with the two police officers. There was a desk in front of him which his hands had been handcuffed to, giving him no choice but to stay seated on the cold metal chair he had been provided with.

He had been brought out of his cell for Athos and Porthos to interrogate him and up until this point Vadim had stayed silent, bravely keeping eye contact with Athos to show him that he would not break. He could see the desperation written all over their faces from the second he had walked into the room and it brought him a lot of joy to be tormenting the men, even after he had been caught.

“Let me remind you Vadim” Athos continued, his voice low, “We’ve already got enough evidence to charge you with a whole number of crimes, as well as attempted murder. But if d’Artagnan dies, you _will_ be convicted of murder and do you know what will be worse than that prison sentence? You’ll have me to deal with.”

After a quick internal debate with himself, Vadim knew he would have to answer him, “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Athos asked.

“I don’t know what’s in the poison.” Vadim shrugged, keeping a straight face. 

“If you’re lying to me…” Athos began, fully prepared to unleash all of his anger on the man in front of him.

“Athos wait, what if he’s telling the truth…” Porthos spoke up, neglecting the good cop role and heading straight to condescending cop, “I mean think about it, Vadim _may_ have come up with the idea, but let’s be honest, it’s not like he actually has the brains - or the means - to be able to create it.” 

Athos took a second to consider this valid point. Trust Porthos to be the level-headed one who worked it all out. “He has an accomplice.”

“An accomplice who’ll know how to make an antidote.” Porthos finished his friend’s train of thought.

“You know you’re a lot smarter than that friend of yours.” Vadim interrupted their conversation, “He was with me for days, doing everything I told him, and he had no idea that I was playing him.”

Athos’ head whipped round to look at Vadim, but foreseeing what his friend was about to do, Porthos stepped in front of him, blocking his view.

“Why don’t you let me carry on from here while you get some air?” His friend suggested quietly.

“No, we have to find out what he-”

“Athos,” Porthos gently interrupted, “You’re letting Vadim get to you and he knows it. Just go and take a break then come back in a few minutes, okay?”

Giving in, Athos left the room and headed straight for the coffee machine in order to fulfil his need for caffeine. The late nights he’d had this week worrying about d’Artagnan were catching up on him.

Inside the interrogation room Porthos continued his questioning, anxious to get answers out of Vadim.

“So who’s your accomplice, hmm? Where is he now whilst you’re stuck in here?” Porthos goaded, but it was clear that their prisoner had resumed his vow of silence.

“Do I have to remind you of the impending murder charge hanging over your head? If you don’t tell me where I can find an antidote, my friend is going to die. And then once we have you, you’re never getting out.” Porthos was leaning over the table and was right in Vadim’s face by this point.

Sighing in defeat, Vadim answered, “I don’t know what’s in the poison, but I know where you can find the guy who makes it. His name is Claude Beaumont, he’s a scientist. He found me a while back and offered me his services.”

“Then what happened?” Porthos sat down and leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I accepted his help, obviously, I’d had an idea for a type of poison for a while but had no way of making it and it seemed my wish had been granted.”

“What does it do? This poison?” Porthos pushed him for more answers.

“It causes someone’s body to shut down. I wanted it to work slowly, that way I could poison my target and then a few hours later whilst they were slowly, yet painfully, dying I could get far, far away from them. That way their death was certain and I couldn’t be blamed.” Vadim leaned forward, smirking.

“How the hell did one man make something like that?” Porthos questioned.

“I don’t know, do I?” Vadim was getting tired of the questions. “I told him what I wanted, and he did it.”

“How long has d’Artagnan got?”

“Oh don’t worry your friend’s got at least another day left. I didn’t want him to die too quickly now did I? It’s a lot more fun, prolonging someone’s agony.” Vadim grinned.

Porthos clenched his fists and took a deep breath, just because they knew what was happening to d’Artagnan didn’t mean they knew how to cure him.

“This Claude Beaumont. Where can I find him?”

* * *

Athos took a sip of his coffee. He had been heading back to Vadim when Elodie had informed him that another of Vadim’s crew had been prepped and was waiting to be questioned.

There was no point going back in with Vadim if he was going to be of no use to Porthos, so instead he decided to see what he could get out of the young woman. So far he had spent ten minutes trying to get even a slither of information out of her regarding Vadim’s true plans, but so far nothing.

Athos wiped his hand across his face. He didn’t have any anger left in him, he barely had enough energy left for desperation. “Right Lucie look at it this way, Vadim’s not getting out of here anytime soon and we have plenty more of his crew locked up here waiting for us to talk to them. So I can send you back to your cell right now and get what I need from one of them instead, but that means your chances of getting out of here are dwindling by the minute.”

Still, Lucie didn’t look up.

“Fine, if that question is too difficult for you, how about this one. Did you know what he was planning to do to d’Artagnan.”

“Who?” Lucie asked, genuinely bewildered.

“Oh right, Christophe…did you know about Vadim’s plans to kill him.”

Any answers Lucie wanted to keep to herself were revealed across her face within a second. Was Christophe okay? She had no idea that something might have happened, simply assuming that he too was currently waiting in one of holding cells.

Her mouth opened and closed slightly a few times, almost in the imitation of a fish, as she tried to decide whether to break her silence regarding Vadim’s plans.

Athos could almost see the cogs turning in her brain, but the small amount of hope that he’d allowed himself to feel faded as Lucie pursed her lips firmly and avoided his eye contact.

He sighed and nodded to himself, turning towards the door without saying another word.

Lucie bit her lip feeling a sudden sense of conflict and as soon as Athos’ hand touched the door handle she blurted out, “Wait! Wait…I’ll tell you.”

* * *

Aramis was still in the room with d’Artagnan. He knew it was stupid but he had been too afraid to leave, like d’Artagnan would suddenly deteriorate further whilst he wasn’t there.

Looking at the boy lying in front of him made his stomach tighten.

He had thought that d’Artagnan looked pale earlier when they were waiting for him to wake up the first time, but now he was like a ghost, fading away right in front of him. His paper-thin eyelids that showed no movement underneath, the blue tinge to the fingernails of his too still hands, the bloodless lips parted slightly around the tube making that _goddamn_ _noise_ that Aramis wished would just stop.

But it wasn’t going to stop.

Not whilst they didn’t have the antidote.

The antidote to the poison currently eating away at d’Artagnan’s life. 

All because they had failed to bring d’Artagnan home safely.

He was wary about holding d’Artagnan’s hand, as much as he longed for the contact. 

He had asked the doctor earlier if d’Artagnan was in pain and it broke his heart to hear that he probably was. They had had to lower his dose of pain relief until they knew what was in the poison, not wanting to risk any further harm on the off chance that the chemicals become even more toxic when combined.

So despite the coma, d’Artagnan was probably feeling the burning pain of both his stab wound and the poison flowing through his body.

“You know, once you get better and inevitably demand to come back to work, we’re probably never going to let you out of our sight again.”

Aramis ran his hand through his hair and sighed. He could feel himself getting choked up.

“I need you to hold on d’Artagnan. Just for a little bit longer. Athos and Porthos, they’re looking for the antidote right now and they’ll find it soon, I promise you. We won’t let you down again.”

He watched d’Artagnan for a moment, hoping for something, anything, any kind of sign that he could hear him and that he was going to keep fighting.

He didn’t know whether to be disappointed or not when there wasn’t any.

He bent his head, resting his elbows on his knees and started praying again. He needed to do something to take his mind off of how helpless he actually was. He let his quietly mumbled words wash over him as he pleaded with his God to save his brother.

After a few moments of contemplation, Aramis noticed movement in his peripheral vision.

D’Artagnan’s hand twitched a few times against the sheets and for a second Aramis stupidly allowed himself to be filled with the hope that he might be waking up, before all of his long lanky limbs constricted and started seizing uncontrollably. 

The machines began their frantic warnings but Aramis was frozen to the spot, unable to take his eyes off of d’Artagnan’s body spasming like he was a fish on a hook, watching how his head kept jerking back unnaturally against the tube and how his hands were shaking as if a thousand volts was running through him.

It was only when he started making an awful choking sound did Aramis finally snap out of it and rush to the door, yanking it open whilst shouting for help.

* * *

“If I’m honest with myself I think I’ve been waiting for this day for some time now. For when Vadim finally goes too far and I can’t stand by and watch anymore. We do everything for him, _anything_ he asks, we’d lay down our lives for him. But if it came down to it, he wouldn’t return the favour. He doesn’t care about the rest of us, he’s only in it for himself.”

Athos hadn’t informed Lucie of d’Artagnan’s true identity, instead choosing to use it to his advantage. She hadn’t brought up his earlier slip-up regarding his real name and her anger over what had happened to him seemed to be fuelling her confession.

“Christophe was a good man…a desperate man, but a good one,” she continued.

“Desperate?”

“I’ve only known him a few days, but every second he’s been with us he’s been trying to prove himself to Vadim, almost trying to show that he’s worthy despite having nothing to owe him for. But he can’t have known what he was committing himself to, he’s still just a kid really.”

Athos closed his eyes, those words reminding yet again him of the very reason he didn’t want d’Artagnan involved in all of this.

“I don’t know anything about this poison or whatever, but I do know that stealing the painting wasn’t his only plan for today. He wants to make a name for himself, to go down in history forever.”

“And how did he intend on doing that?”

“By blowing up half of Paris,” she gave a small defeatist chuckle, “he has people planting bombs everywhere.”

“Do you know where?” Athos pushed, startled by this new information.

Lucie shook her head. “I wasn’t even supposed to know about _this_ , none of the library crew knew, it’s only because Vadim left his papers unattended yesterday for like two minutes and I’m very good at being nosy. The festival was his perfect opportunity and there’s no way he’s going to waste it.”

“Well no matter, we have Vadim and all his crew, so there’s no one left to give the order to anyway,” Athos started before Lucie’s point registered, “…wait. If none of his ‘library crew’ knew about his plans, who’s planting the bombs?”

Lucie started at him in disbelief for a moment. “How long have you been after Vadim? Did you _seriously_ think that that tiny group of us was his only crew?! He’s planned for every possible outcome! He has people _everywhere_ , more than I know about. Whether you have Vadim or not those bombs are still going to be set off.”


	8. Day 5 Part 4

Athos left the interrogation room and immediately spotted the exact person he was looking for.

“I know what Vadim was really planning.” He said, forgoing any kind of greeting.

“Tell me in your office, Porthos has found something as well.” Treville replied, already leading the way.

Elodie was sitting in Aramis’ chair with her laptop open on the desk when the two entered. Her eyes lifted briefly to see who it was but quickly went back to her typing.

Porthos eagerly announced his news to Athos,“I have a name and a place. Vadim hired a scientist called Claude Beaumont to make the poison, he’s working out of a warehouse in Aubervilliers. Elodie’s searching our system now to see if we can find him.”

Athos knew that Porthos was good, but he honestly hadn’t expected this information. “How the hell did you get that out of him?” 

Porthos shrugged, “Luck? I’m just hoping he’s in the system, the name will be no good to us if we don’t have an exact location. Aubervilliers isn’t exactly small, it’s not like we can search the whole area.”

“That’s not the only bad news. One of Vadim’s crew just told me what his actual plan was. Apparently Vadim has bombs planted all over the city ready to be set off and we have no idea where or how many.”

“What? How is that possible?!” Treville asked, already pulling his phone out of his pocket to get in contact with the bomb squad.

“Because he’s been playing us this whole time. We thought we had finally gotten ten steps ahead of him, but yet again we’re a hundred steps behind. Vadim’s organisation is so much bigger than we’d ever realised. His men could literally be anywhere right now.”

Treville nodded to himself. “Okay, you two focus on finding that antidote, I’ll deal with this bomb problem.”

Athos nodded in agreement and watched Treville exit the room before turning his attention back to Elodie to see if she had found anything yet. Looking down at the laptop his eye caught an oddly shaped lump sitting on the desk beside it. It took him a moment to realise that it was the blu-tack elephant that Aramis had so lovingly created only a few days ago.

Athos couldn’t help but pick up the little blue creature and hold it in his hands. He ran his thumb over the small eye hole that he could only assume had been created by poking the blob with a pencil. _A work of art_ Aramis had joked when he showed it to him. They’d all joked about it, back when his biggest worry was whether he’d finish his report on time.

How had everything changed so quickly?

Thankfully, Elodie’s voice broke him out of his thoughts and he returned the elephant to its place on the desk before giving her his full attention.

“Right, there’s two Claude Beaumont’s in the system. One died three years ago and the other is only 15 years old, arrested last month for pick pocketing. Neither of them have any connection to Aubervilliers or any kind of warehouse.”

“So it’s a dead end.” Athos stated.

“Woah wait, let’s not give up just yet, eh? Elodie, try just Beaumont.”

“Porthos, that’s a really common surname you may not be able to narrow the list down,” Elodie replied, already typing the name into her computer.

All three watched as the computer ran the latest search. A few minutes past before it had collected all the data. _167 results._

Porthos ignored how Athos defeatedly turned away from the screen without a word and instead focused on the names in front of him. He asked Elodie to scroll down the list until one name stood out.

“There, that one! Claudius Beaumont, what do we know about him?”

Elodie clicked on the file and quickly scanned the information. “Okay, 37 years old, was arrested two years ago for ABH in the workplace but wasn’t charged. Looks like he used to work in a lab and wasn’t too happy about being fired for experimenting with lethal chemicals without permission.”

She looked up at Porthos and smiled, “Now owns a carpentry workshop in Aubervilliers. Looks to me like we’ve found our man.”

* * *

The drive to the workshop takes about 30 minutes with very little traffic which on any other day would be considered a good journey but today it took about 29 minutes longer than they would have liked.

Porthos took the opportunity to call Aramis and provide an update on what they had found out. He’d told him that the substance that d’Artagnan had been poisoned with was going to be shutting down his major organs before long and that they were hopefully on their way to obtain the antidote right now.

Aramis had not given away too much in return, instead simply informing him that, as expected, d’Artagnan was getting worse.

“What did he say?” Athos asked as soon as Porthos hung up, being sure to keep an eye on the road ahead.

Porthos shook his had. “Not much, just that d’Artagnan’s already deteriorating. Doctors are going to try and keep him stable, but he needs the antidote as soon as possible”

“Deteriorating how?”

“I don’t know, he didn’t say.” Porthos shrugged as Athos turned to look at him.

“Well, why didn’t you ask?”

“If he wanted us to know, he would have told me. Look, I know Aramis, he’s keeping it from us on purpose, he doesn’t want us to lose focus.”

“We deserve to know!”

“Right and knowing how much he’s suffering right now, would that help you?”

Athos opened his mouth but no response came. Maybe it _would_ help, maybe it would quieten all of the horrific scenarios currently going round and round in his head. But then maybe it would make it worse, because despite everything he was picturing there was still a tiny speck of hope that it wasn’t actually that bad and hearing the truth said aloud would most likely shatter the hope he was clinging onto.

_You have reached your destination_ the satnav interrupted before the conversation could continue.

Athos pulled into the front drive of the workshop, next to a large sign: _Carpentry and Repairs. Please enquire within._

“You ready?” He asked Porthos as they both got out of the car.

* * *

Aramis had been sent out of the room after calling for help which unfortunately meant he had no excuse but to pick up the phone when it started ringing.

The information that Porthos had passed onto him was something that he would make sure to inform the doctor about as soon as possible, but he had no idea what to tell his friend in return. He couldn’t give them anything definitive about d’Artagnan’s condition and a vague description of how the boy had been literally dying right in front of him was not going to do Porthos or Athos any good, so he stayed quiet and was glad when Porthos didn’t push it any further.

When the door opened and the medical team left the room Aramis wasted no time in passing on Porthos’ information to the doctor.

“That explains what’s happening now then.” The doctor looked at him grimly. “D’Artagnan’s kidneys have started shutting down which is what caused the seizure.

Aramis swallowed thickly, “Okay, what does that mean?”

The doctor gestured to the nearby seats and continued once they had both sat down. 

“Our bodies needs clean blood to function properly and it’s the kidneys’ job to filter out the waste and keep everything chemically balanced. If they can’t do their job the toxins that are in our blood aren’t being removed and so they flood the body.”

“Can you get them working again?” Aramis asked, knowing what the answer was probably going to be.

“Ordinarily yes, we’d determine what type of kidney failure it was and go from there. But if, like you said, the poison is shutting down his major organs, then my best guess is that we’re not going to be able to fix it, instead we’ll have to do our best to manage the symptoms, keep him stable and just pray that the antidote will be able to stop the damage going any further.”

The doctor paused for a moment, understanding completely that it was a lot to take in. 

“We’re going to get him set up on something called peritoneal dialysis and see where we go from there. You can go back in and be with him for now though.” 

Aramis took a breath and thanked the doctor. He waited for the man to walk away before entering the hospital room again.

Nothing had changed, not on the outside at least.

D’Artagnan was still unconscious on the bed, unmoving and pale as anything. The ventilator was still keeping him breathing and the IV tubes were still snaking across his body.

Aramis took his place by d’Artagnan’s bedside and had no choice but to wait and see what would happen next.

* * *

Athos and Porthos entered the workshop and were surprised by what they found.

They had expected some secret laboratory with brightly coloured liquids bubbling over bunsen burners being operated by a mad scientist with crazy hair and dirty lab coat.

But really, it should have been pretty obvious that the inside of this very public carpentry workshop was, in fact, a carpentry workshop.

It wasn’t a large workshop by any means, but there were several work benches out holding chairs, wardrobes, even what looked like a large selection of very exquisite wooden door handles in various stages of completion. 

Towards the back of the workshop, varnishing a chest of draws, was the only member of staff to be seen. A brunette man with messy hair and a medium build. He clearly hadn’t heard them enter over the radio plugged in nearby and so was given a bit of a fright when approached by Athos and Porthos.

The man put a hand to his chest and let out a nervous laugh as he recovered, “Sorry fellas, didn’t see you there. Can I help you? We actually closed about an hour ago, but if you’re here to pick up?”

“We’re looking for a Claude Beaumont,” Athos took the lead, “we heard he owns this workshop?”

“Aye, that’s me,” Claude replied, picking up a cloth to wipe his hands, “what can I do for you?”

“You can hand over the antidote to the poison you created for Vadim.”

Claude froze and Athos could practically see the cogs whirring in his head before deciding to do what every criminal does. He runs.

Now luckily for Athos, he’s been doing this job a long time. It was obvious that Claude was going to run, so obvious in fact that Athos thinks he might have actually started running towards him a second before Claude even took off.

Porthos stayed back and admired Athos’ ability to take down a guy with what he always liked to say was the grace of a hippo. Eh, at least it got the job done.

Claude was on his back, arms pinned above his head with Athos practically sitting on top of him. He tried to wriggle out of the other man’s grip or kick him off but he struggled to no avail.

“Fine, you can have it, just get off me.”

* * *

Claude led them to a modest room in the basement of the workshop. 

“Now this is more like it,” Porthos said, looking around the room. The main desk held what you would expect to find in an office: a computer, stationary, stacks of paperwork and receipts. But at the back of the room, on another table, was a collection of scientific equipment next to a large cabinet which housed chemical filled flasks and vials. Nowhere near enough to be called a lab, but enough for Claude Beaumont to create a deadly poison it seems.

Athos pushed Claude further into the room and signalled for him to retrieve the antidote.

He watched closely as the man opened the cabinet and carefully picked out a small glass vial filled with a dull blue liquid. 

If Porthos was paying a bit more attention, he would have noticed that by also entering the room further he had left the doorway unguarded. Claude unfortunately did notice.

Before passing the vial over, the scientist took a moment to observe that Athos and Porthos were both standing on one side of the main desk leaving the other side a completely unobstructed pathway to the door.

He wasted no time in enacting his escape and threw the antidote in the air towards the men.

For Athos and Porthos it was like everything was suddenly moving in slow motion. One second the vial was in Claude’s hand and the next it was flying towards them. They both dived forward, fearing it would reach the ground before they could catch it, fully aware that d’Artagnan’s life depended on them not dropping this tiny bottle.

In reality it had landed as smoothly in Athos’ grip as quickly as it had left Claude’s, but this unexpected distraction meant that neither of them had noticed Claude leave until the door slammed behind them.

Rushing to the exit they watched through the door’s small window as Claude entered a code on a small keypad attached to the wall, another of which was actually on their side of the door as well.

“Claude open the door,” Athos demanded, feeling the cool glass in his palm as he gripped the antidote tighter.

“I can’t do that. I can’t let you stop me.” Claude whispered as he leant closer to the glass.

“Stop what?”

“Vadim’s plan.” He grinned.

Athos’ brow creased in confusion, “Vadim’s plan?”

“ There’s a bomb out there waiting for me and when I leave here, it’s my job, my honour, to light the fuse. Finally bringing me what I’ve always wanted. To be a part of history.” Claude’s eyes lit up at the realisation of how close he was to fulfilling his dream.

_“_ What is it with criminals and wanting to go down in history?!” Porthos muttered to himself, still unsure of what the hell was going on.

Athos shook his head as he tried to get through to him, “Vadim’s plan is over Claude, there’s no bomb for you to set off, just let us out of here.”

“But of course there is. That’s why you’re here.” 

“We’re here because Vadim is locked up and he ratted you out.” Porthos bashed his fist against the door, but Claude was unfazed.

“No, you’re here because Plan A failed. But I’m Plan B. If things changed and Vadim was unable to give the signal, he was to lead you to me. That way I’d know it was my job to give the order. I set off the first bomb to let the others know to do the same. And what a privilege it will be.” Claude started to walk away from the door before turning back to them. “Oh and sorry about your friend.”

Athos, confounded, had no option but to watch as Claude ran away.

* * *

Porthos angrily kicked the door, “I knew Vadim gave him up way too easily! I should have seen this coming.”

Athos chose not to answer his friend as he continued entering combinations into the keypad, each one replying with a long _beep_ and a flashing red light.

“And of course,” Porthos continued with his rant, “we’ve got no signal down here so we can’t warn Treville about the bombs, we can’t tell Aramis that the antidote isn’t on it’s way, we can’t even work out how to open the bloody door!”

Athos turned to face him with a sympathetic glare, “Porthos, there is no way we could have expected this, okay? I know you’re angry but I swear I’m going to figure out the code to this door even if it kills me, so until then look around the room. Maybe he was stupid enough to write something down that will help us out.”

Porthos trudged over to the desk and tapped the mouse. The floating bubbles of the screensaver disappeared to reveal a login box.

_Username: C.Beaumont_

_Password:_

“Computer needs a password,” Porthos sighed.

“Try the paperwork,” Athos replied, his focus back on the keypad.

1256 _beep_

1257 _beep_

1258 _beep_

One of these numbers was going to be correct.

Porthos grabbed the closest pile of papers to him and rifled through it. Bank statements, blueprints for wardrobes, the occasional cat photo but no super evil plans.

He did the same with the other stacks before moving over to a filing cabinet that sat towards the back of the room. Inside, files were organised by tab in alphabetical order, A for Adelaide, Adrien, Andre, B for Barrie, Bayard, Benedict…They were client files.

Forgoing the rest of the alphabet, Porthos went straight to the letter V and there, right at the front, was a file labeled ‘Vadim’.

“I might have something,” Porthos announced, pulling the file out and opening it.

Athos tried one more combination before joining Porthos.

Inside the file was, in fact, everything they needed to know about Claude’s part in Vadim’s plan.

One page listed a bunch of payments into Claude’s account.

One page detailed what seemed to be a breakdown of the chemical components of a certain poison and antidote.

One page was neatly titled _bomb locations_ and listed about ten different addresses.

Porthos looked at it in disbelief, “Rule number one of being a good criminal Claude, you don’t write down evidence that can be easily found. Idiot.”

“This is exactly what we need, we just need to get this to Treville,” Athos stated, flicking through the rest of the pages.

“Yeah a load of good it does us whilst we’re still locked in here.” Porthos shut the draw and almost walked away until something caught his eye. Down the front of the cabinet was a selection of post-it notes, in a range of colours and sizes, holding different notes and scribbles. He’d dismissed them when he first opened the draw, but looking again there was one post-it stuck to the second draw that simply said: _CODE: 4376_.

Porthos almost laughed out loud as he pulled it off and held it up to show Athos.

“Surely not,” Athos took it from him and walked back over to the keypad and sure enough after typing in the code, the light turned green and the door opened.

“Like I said, idiot.”

* * *

It had been almost two hours since Porthos had last called and Aramis was getting worried, he had no doubt that his friends were doing everything in their power to find the antidote, but in the meantime d’Artagnan was getting worse.

The doctor had told Aramis to grab him immediately if there were any changes and for a good forty minutes all d’Artagnan was having to deal with was some breathing difficulties and failing kidneys.

Aramis, in order to distract himself from the room’s constant array of noises, started reading aloud a book that he had downloaded onto his phone a while ago.

He’d downloaded it almost two years ago by now and was pretty sure that he’d started the book at least three times already in the past, but he had a terrible habit of reading a chapter then forgetting the book even existed for a good four or five months.

“I’ve always wanted to be part of a book club, you know,” Aramis had said, “I almost even managed to bring Athos round to the idea with promises of wine but he decided my book choices weren’t good enough for him.”

He had looked over d’Artagnan’s still body once more before starting, “Let’s see if you agree with him eh?”

The first chapter was only six pages long and in between his occasional glances to check that d’Artagnan’s condition was the same, Aramis found himself intrigued by the story’s beginning.

It was halfway through the second chapter that he had noticed something was a bit different. D’Artagnan’s pale complexion had gained a touch of colour, but instead of returning to its usual olive tone, it was just a bit too yellow.

Acute liver failure, the doctor had told him after they had run more tests following Aramis’ observation. “We’ll have to watch him carefully,” the doctor had said, “obviously we don’t know exactly how this poison is effecting his organs, but our concern with a failing liver, in any ordinary case, is that it can’t make enough clotting factors which could lead to him bleeding internally. On top of that it can also cause excessive fluid to build up in the brain which, if that happens, we may be able to treat with medication, but if it ends up being serious enough to require an operation I severely doubt his body will be able to take the strain.”

So now Aramis was back with d’Artagnan, reading aloud the words on the page, not fully taking them in himself, hoping that any minute now his phone would start ringing. He knew that he was just going to have to be patient, his friends were working hard to get the antidote and they wouldn’t waste time calling him if they hadn’t found anything yet. That didn’t stop his brain from constantly reminding him of what could happen if they didn’t come back with it soon.

D’Artagnan was still lying on his back, eyes closed, chest moving mechanically, but Aramis could have sworn that despite his heavily unconscious state there was still small lines of discomfort around his eyes.

He could only imagine the pain d’Artagnan was feeling right now. They had still decided not to administer any pain relief yet for fear of making it worse, but this did mean that, on top of every new complication that was arising, his body was having to fight even harder to survive.

* * *

Porthos was already on the phone to Treville by the time they’d started the car’s engine.

“Yes sir. Well from what’s written down here it seems that the bombs have been placed in buildings leading up to and surrounding where the festival is taking place. We believe that Claude’s responsible for setting off the first one and then they’ll all be set off from that.”

Athos pulled away and sped down the road as he listened to Porthos respond to whatever Treville had said.

“Yep, okay we’ll head straight there, I’ll send you a picture of the list now.”

Athos had already typed the first bomb’s location into the satnav when Porthos hung up the phone and looked at him guiltily.

“Athos, I know d’Artagnan needs the antidote, but we’re the closest to the location.” He tried to placate his friend as he took a photo of the list, but Athos already understood.

“No, he’s right. As much as I hate leaving d’Artagnan to suffer for even a second longer, Claude has to be stopped. Who knows how many people will die if we don’t get there in time.”

Porthos nodded to his friend, “Besides, d’Artagnan’s a strong lad, he’ll be able to hold on.”

Athos prayed that that was true as he pressed down on the accelerator and gripped the steering wheel just a little bit tighter.


	9. Day 5 Part 5

The location of the first bomb was written very clearly at the top of the list. _Église Saint-Eustache._ _The Church of St Eustache._ The large, majestic church located about 10 minutes away from the festival.

“I don’t want to tempt fate or anything, but why hasn’t he set the bomb off yet?” Porthos asked aloud, “We were trapped in that room for god knows how long, he’s had all the time in the world with no one to stop him.”

“No idea. Let’s just hope it’s not because he’s waiting for us to turn up first and take us out with it.”

Porthos paused as he considered Athos’ answer, “Oh…I hadn’t thought of that. Oh you’ve upset me now.” 

Athos gave a small chuckle to himself as he continued watching the road. They were almost at the church, but the closer they got to the festival the more traffic there was. 

They weren’t going into this with a plan, it was more of a ‘see what we find when we turn up’ situation. Athos just hoped that they wouldn’t find a pile of rubble.

They had decided against telling Aramis that they had found the antidote. They honestly didn’t know how long it would be until they reached the hospital - if they reached it at all, thinking about it - and so thought it was best not to get anyone’s hopes up or cause any changes to d’Artagnan’s treatment.

It also meant that they didn’t have to hear anymore about d’Artagnan’s condition, because finding out that he had deteriorated further would only make putting him as a lower priority that much harder.

_Your location is on the right_ , the car’s sat nav informed them, finally.

Athos wasted no time in putting the car haphazardly into park and jumping out. The pair hastily ran up the front steps towards the church and pushed the heavy doors open.

The grand building was fairly empty, most people were at the festival after all. But the few that were sitting in the pews or admiring the architecture were quietly ushered out by Porthos who, after flashing his police badge, informed them that they needed to get as far away as possible.

They both did a quick sweep of the ground floor before meeting back up at the entrance.

“All clear downstairs.” Porthos whispered as he nodded towards the singular winding staircase that would lead to the balcony. “You think he’s up there?”

“Only one way to find out.”

* * *

Hours. It had been hours since Aramis had last had an update about his friends’ whereabouts and he was starting to worry.

Actually, that’s a lie. He’d been in a constant state of worry since the beginning of d’Artagnan’s rapid decline but he refused to panic in front of the boy. If d’Artagnan was to die, Aramis wanted the last words he heard to be peaceful.

He rubbed the nape of his neck and closed his eyes for a moment in an attempt to ground himself. He had forgone the book a while ago, instead deciding to tell d’Artagnan some stories of his own that the boy might prefer.

Taking a deep breath he continued talking.

“Do you remember that one time we went to that farm because there were reports of a break in? We could hear the owner inside screaming for the intruder to go away and it was like the four of us suddenly became secret agents as we creeped around to different entrances of the farm house. I’m pretty sure you even army rolled underneath that kitchen window.”

He gave a small chuckle.

“Then we burst open the doors, guns at the ready, shouting that it was the police and we found the owner’s girlfriend standing on the table waving a tea towel at these chickens that were flapping everywhere.”

Running a hand through his hair, Aramis noticed the beads of sweat had returned to d’Artagnan’s forehead. He lent forward and gently wiped the boy’s face with the washcloth that had been left for him.

D’Artagnan had been running a high fever for about an hour now. Sepsis, the doctor had confirmed after a few tests. The liver failure along with the very recent surgery and the fact that he was on a ventilator had left him completely susceptible to infection. It really was one thing after another.

“And while we all helped to calm the lady down and discover what had happened, we left you to round up the chickens. I believe Porthos called it your rookie initiation? You got proper stuck in though, the determination on your little face! They kept nipping you but you were trying so hard to stay professional!”

The blood pressure monitor started beeping again. The doctor had warned Aramis that the sepsis could lead to a rapid drop in blood pressure, which, if drastic enough, would stop oxygen from reaching d’Artagnan’s organs and tissues and could cause his entire immune system to go into overdrive. It had happened a few times now, but for reasons that the doctor had no answers for, D’Artagnan’s seemed to only drop dangerously for a few minutes before settling again, so there wasn’t much to be done for it.

“They’ll be here soon d’Artagnan, I promise.” Aramis spoke softly as he wiped the boy’s forehead again. “Now where was I? Oh yes, the chickens.”

* * *

Crouched down at the back of the balcony, Claude was checking over the bomb for the sixth time since he had arrived. He knew that all the components _were_ in place and he knew exactly what he had to do to detonate it, but he also knew that he only had one chance to get this right for Vadim.

He had memorised the entire layout and schedule of the festival in preparation for this moment and knew exactly which timings were the best to put Vadim’s plan into action. The next slot was in 20 minutes.

But something told him that he was going to end up being ahead of schedule. Maybe it was the heavy beating of his heart and the impending sense of dread at the thought of failing Vadim.

Maybe it was the sound of footsteps currently climbing the stairs.

“Did you get the antidote to your boy in time?” Claude asked, turning to face Athos as he reached the top step. “I’ll take your silence as a no.”

Athos, unfazed by Claude’s predictable taunt, quickly took stock of the situation. The balcony itself was not very large, but the time it would take to get past the few rows of chairs to where Claude was standing next to the bomb would give the man plenty of time to set it off.

“Just step away from the bomb Claude,” Athos gently requested, not wanting to suddenly spook the man into doing something unforgivable. “It’s not too late.” 

“Oh it is. For you. You’ve failed and Vadim’s beaten you once again.” Claude grinned.

Porthos gave Athos a quick nod before starting to edge along the front of the balcony, drawing the attention to himself. “You’re on your own Claude! You really think that if you do this, the other bombs will be set off too? You are hours behind Vadim’s schedule, they would have long given up and gone home by now.”

“You clearly know nothing about loyalty! Vadim’s men will not leave their posts until the job is done. No matter how long it takes, they’ll have complete faith in Vadim that it _will_ be completed.”

Athos, who had gone left when Porthos had gone right, had reached the back of the balcony and only had one row of chairs standing between him and the bomb.

“And what will you get for your trouble?” Porthos continued. “They’ll all be able to escape but we’ve got you now.”

“It’ll be worth it. For Vadim.” Claude said before turning his head to face Athos. With a small smirk, he leant down and activated the bomb.

* * *

“I don’t think I ever told you about the first time we met Marguerite. It was years before you joined us.”

Aramis rubbed his eyes and took a sip of his coffee.

“One summer we got a call about a woman sitting on top of the library roof in nothing but her underwear. It was something like five o’clock in the morning so there wasn’t many people around but someone called it in, afraid she was going to fall off or something.

So we got there and, as we had been told, there was a half naked lady perched on the roof, her legs hanging off the edge. All she had on was some matching neon pink underwear and a huge pair of sunglasses, I swear to you they must have taken up like half of her face. And she was holding what looked like a pad of paper so instantly we thought the worst.

Turns out that it was a canvas she was holding. Once we’d gotten up to the roof we found this huge array of paints and paintbrushes and saw that she’d been painting the sunrise coming up from over the park across the street. 

Apparently it was the perfect spot to capture her true artistic vision, something about _being far from the ground meant that she wasn’t tied down and it gave her the opportunity to free her mind, spirit, soul and body._ Well, the last one was freed due to the lack of clothes. 

Anyway, we helped her down, told her not to do it again and sent her on her way.”

Aramis couldn’t hold back a yawn as he rubbed his eyes again.

“And I really wish that had been the last I heard of it, but unfortunately I made a rather embarrassing blunder. You see for an 80-something year old, that woman was in pretty good shape and what with her bright pink attire, her long flowing hair and those huge sunglasses that happened to hide a few obvious wrinkles, I may have started my usual flirty routine to try and get her to come down.

By that point in my career I’d worked with Athos and Porthos for long enough that those two knew exactly what it looked like when I was flirting for real and well, you can imagine how mortifying it was when she finally came down from the roof and we got a proper look at her. Lovely woman but she’s not exactly my type.” 

Aramis smiled at the nostalgia of the story.

“And that right there was the beginning of years of torment from those two every time Marguerite was mentioned.”

Aramis’ mood turned somber as he considered the words he had just uttered and got the sudden urge to get something off his chest. 

“You know we only mess with you because we care about you, right? I know that sounds stupid but you’re the baby of the group and I guess that means you’re the easiest to pick on.” Aramis stubbornly wiped a stray tear that had rolled down his cheek. “I’ve always just assumed you enjoyed it, but we’ll stop, if that’s what you want. As soon as you wake up, you tell us to stop and we will. We only want what’s best for you, you know that?”

The blood pressure monitor starting beeping again and Aramis glared at it, daring it to continue, but then the heart monitor joined in like some cruel orchestra. Then the telltale, drawn out whine of an absent heart rate began.

It took him a second to fully register before Aramis jumped out of his seat and yanked open the door, shouting for someone to help.

He stood back and watched the now too-familiar scene of doctors and nurses running in to bring his friend back to life.

“D’Artagnan please,” Aramis prayed, watching with his hands clasped behind his head “Just hold on a little bit longer.”

* * *

It all happened very quickly. Claude activated the bomb and then ran straight for the front of the balcony, only to be stopped from jumping over by Porthos who effortlessly tackled him to the ground.

Athos ran straight for the bomb only to be reminded that he actually had no idea what to do when faced with a large explosive. The timer was counting down from three minutes and he wasn’t really sure if it was a blessing or a curse.

Three minutes was much longer than he expected to see on the device. For an experienced bomb tech that was the equivalent of hours. Unfortunately he was _not_ an experienced bomb tech, so three minutes was a long time to wait for the inevitable.

Porthos glanced over to Athos and the sudden panic in the man’s eyes told him everything he needed to know.

“Deactivate it now Claude or I swear…” He demanded from the man he was still pinning to the floor.

“Or what?” Claude spat back, “What will you do?”

Claude was prepared to do anything for Vadim, but now that the moment had arrived he realised that he wasn’t actually that keen on dying for him. He tried to wriggle out of Porthos’ hold but the larger man’s brute strength meant that he wasn’t going anywhere.

Desperate to escape, Claude released a swift head butt before taking advantage of the man’s momentary shock to push him into the row of chairs and make a break for the staircase.

Porthos, who should never be underestimated, grabbed Claude’s ankle before he got very far and dragged him, with a thud, back down to the floor.

Trusting that Porthos had the situation in hand, Athos focused on his own problems. The bright red letters glared at him as they continued counting down. 2:36. 

Great, he had two and a half minutes to learn how to defuse a bomb. Or call someone who might have the answers.

Pulling his phone out of his pocket he found Treville’s number and let it ring.

_The person you are calling is on the phone. Please hang up and try again later._

“Damn it Treville.” He muttered to himself as he ended the call.

Taking a moment to observe the bomb properly, he noticed that the entire thing was encased, like a small metal box, with the only accessible part being a front panel held closed by a small latch. Taking a deep breath, he undid the latch and allowed the panel to swing open.

Inside he found an array of wires in four different colours. Red, blue, green and black.

“Okay, this is easy, it’s the red one, it’s always the red one.” Athos whispered to himself, trying to think back to every action movie he’d ever seen. “Unless there’s like ten red ones in which case let’s not do that. There’s only one green one, maybe it’s that?”

A grunt from behind him grabbed his attention as he saw Claude trip over a chair in a continued attempt to escape. “Who am I kidding, I have no clue what I’m doing.”

He tried calling Treville again as he watched the clock reach two minutes.

Meanwhile, Porthos was still grappling with Claude, amazed by his inability to admit defeat. He quickly ducked to avoid the hymn books being thrown at his head and lunged again for Claude.

“Give up Claude! You’re not going anywhere, just defuse the bloody bomb already!”

Claude grinned and managed to jump out of the way, edging closer and closer to the exit.

“You think this is funny do you?!” Porthos was getting frustrated now and ran straight for the man, slamming him against the wall and keeping him pinned with a hand at his throat.

Claude clawed at Porthos’ hand before resorting to kneeing him in the groin. Porthos couldn’t stop the expletive from leaving his mouth but did not let slip of his captive.

“I can’t stop it Porthos, we have to get out now!” Athos shouted to his partner, before running over to join him.

Porthos did not take his eyes off Claude as he asked, “How long’s left?”

Athos shook his head. “Minute and a half. Not enough time for bomb squad even if I could get through to Treville.”

Porthos grabbed Claude from the wall and pulled his arms behind his back, “If you want to get out of here alive, you are going to cooperate, do you understand.”

Claude eyed Porthos defiantly but did not disagree. Porthos made it clear to Athos that he had Claude secured before they swiftly reached the staircase.

In a final attempt to get free, Claude saw his opportunity and, using Porthos’ grip on him as support, jumped up and kicked Athos in the back.

With a pained grunt, Athos fell onto his front at the top of the staircase but to his relief, he managed to catch himself before falling and so did not make it past the first two steps.

Balancing awkwardly at the top of the downward spiral he noticed the small glass vial he had been keeping safe in his jacket, bounce delicately towards the bottom. As quickly as it had fallen out of his pocket, it left his sight as it rounded the curling steps but the tiny smash heard seconds later was unmistakable.

“No.” Athos let out a delicate whisper, in disbelief at what had just happened. 

Had they just failed at both jobs in a matter of minutes? They had chosen to stop Claude first, but by doing so they had just doomed both d’Artagnan and the hundreds of innocent, unsuspecting people at the festival.

“Athos, get up.” Porthos demanded, he knew exactly what he had just witnessed but they could deal with it once they were no longer at risk of being blown to pieces.

The three men ran down the stairs, past the small puddle of blue liquid and shattered glass and out the front door.

They continued running halfway down the street, Athos shouting at everyone he saw to _get away from the church_ whilst Porthos kept his grip on Claude even tighter. 

The explosion was not too devastating when you look at the grand scheme of things. It was large enough that the ground shook and knocked everyone nearby off their feet and it completely levelled the church. A few nearby buildings were hit by flying debris but in terms of blast radius that was it. 

Except that wasn’t it, Athos reminded himself, that right there was the signal to set off nine other bombs.

* * *

Treville was a busy man at the best of times. Coordinating bomb squad and police to ten different locations whilst also dealing with the biggest festival of the year, with two men unavailable at the hospital, two men on the way to a bomb they would have idea how to deal with and a criminal mastermind in holding. That was a whole other level.

He had informed the bomb squad of the believed location of each device but as there were so many locations and not enough men, he had to prioritise. Athos and Porthos were already heading towards the first location before he had even dispatched officers to the rest so if everything went to plan they would be able to stop Claude by themselves.

And he had complete faith in them to do so.

He ordered bomb disposal teams to locations two, three and four. Once they had safely defused their respective bombs they would move onto the next.

He also sent two officers to each location on the list. It was getting late and there was more likely to be trouble at the festival at this time, so that was all the manpower he could safely spare.

In an ideal world their targets would be apprehended swiftly, with no detonations, no casualties and no extra paperwork for him to complete.

All teams were well on their way and he had even just gotten off the phone with Dominic who had informed him that he and Elodie had already apprehended the target at location number seven when he noticed two missed calls from Athos.

_On their way back with Beaumont I guess,_ Treville told himself, but as he tapped on Athos’ name to return his call a loud boom echoed through the city.

Along with every officer in the room, Treville ran to the window. A big, black cloud of smoke could be seen in the distance and instantly he thought he might be a little off with his prediction of what Athos’ call was about.

Seconds later the room was once again filled with noise and movement as phones start ringing and officers are given their orders.

Treville immediately sent any remaining officers he could find to the church, the obvious location of the explosion, before calling Athos.

* * *

Still on the floor, Athos, Porthos and Claude watched as the smoke cleared and the dust settled. They watched as everyone nearby picked themselves up off the floor, checking on one another or frantically talking into their phones, staring at the burning pile of rubble in shock. No one looked to be too badly injured though.

A tinny ringtone played from Athos’ pocket and he was surprised he could hear it over the ringing in his ears.

“Hello?” He coughed in an attempt to clear the smoke from his lungs.

_“Athos are you okay?”_ A worried voice asked.

“Treville?” Athos coughed again, “Sir, it detonated. The bomb, it’s gone off, you have to get everyone away from the festival.”

_“Athos it’s okay, teams have already been dispatched, it’s all been taken care of.”_ Treville paused before asking again, _“Are you okay?”_

Athos watched as Porthos dragged Claude to his feet, “We’re fine Sir, just a few scrapes and bruises.”

_“Good. I’ve sent people to your location, they should be with you soon. Do you still have your eyes on Beaumont?”_

“Unfortunately, yes.” Athos replied, deadpan. He glanced over his shoulder and watched as Porthos threatened to _silence Claude for good_ if he didn’t stop wriggling.

_“Good. Pass him over when the officers arrive and get that antidote to the hospital.”_ Treville ordered, _“And get yourself and Porthos checked over whilst you’re there. You hear me?”_

“Yes Sir, we’re on it.” Athos replied before ending the call.

Get the antidote to the hospital? What antidote?

Moments later, three police cars pulled up at a safe distance from the wreckage, sirens blaring and lights flashing. Athos ran over to greet them and briefly explained the situation. Claude was handed over to Annabelle who securely cuffed him and locked him in the back seat whilst everyone else worked together to cordon off the area and help those who had been caught in the blast.

Porthos grabbed Athos’ attention, “Come on, we have to get to d’Artagnan.”

“With what? We don’t have the antidote and Claude says that’s the only one he made.” Athos was getting frustrated and the ringing in his ears was making his head hurt.

“Maybe, but we have his plans in the car, that could at least get the doctors somewhere!” Porthos pointed towards where they had parked the vehicle near the church. “Oh my god, the car!”

The pair pushed their way through the small crowd that had started forming until they reached the car.

What they had expected to see was crushed metal and broken glass. Maybe a small fire starting under the hood. At best.

But instead, there stood the car, fully intact. Well almost. There was a dent in the front hood and it looked like one of the back lights had been smashed, but by some miracle all other flying debris seemed to have completely missed it.

“How have we been this lucky?” Porthos was genuinely amazed at the sight in front of him.

“Lucky? Really?” Athos gestured to the destruction around them.

“You know what I mean!” 

They both jumped into the car and after confirming that the plans were still sitting, intact, in the glove compartment, Athos put the car in gear and sped to the hospital.


	10. Day 5 Part 6 + Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, the final chapter! Thank you if you've stuck with it this far and hope you enjoy!

As soon as they reached the hospital they ran straight to the ward they last saw d’Artagnan on and almost literally bumped straight into his doctor.

If the doctor was startled at having the two men barge unexpectedly through the doors he didn’t show it. “You’re back. Do you have the antidote?” 

“Not exactly, but we know how to make it.” Porthos tapped the paperwork he was holding out for the doctor.

The man took the notes and ran his eyes over it quickly. “Okay, this may take more time than we have, but it might be doable. I’ll get it to the lab immediately.”

Athos held out his hand and gestured for the man not to leave yet. “How is he?” He asked anxiously.

“Not good.” The doctor shook his head, “He’s still in the same room.” 

Porthos thanked him and watched as he darted off. They apprehensively headed towards d’Artagnan’s room fearing what they would find. 

Aramis had not been back in the room for long after the medical team had restarted d’Artagnan’s heart when the door opened again to reveal the two people he had been waiting to see for what felt like an eternity.

“Oh my god, you’re back!” Aramis, overwhelmed in relief at the sight, pulled his friends into an awkward double hug, “Are you two okay? I heard the nurses saying something about a bomb going off? Was it Vadim’s?”

“Yeah it was his, but we’re fine, we got lucky…” Porthos trailed off as he looked over to d’Artagnan. It was hard to believe that it was only this morning since they had last seen the boy. He looked so much worse in such a short space of time. “How bad is it?”

Aramis glanced at d’Artagnan and ran his hand through his hair. “He doesn’t have much time. His lungs, liver and kidneys have all shut down, he’s got a serious infection which has caused a raging fever and his heart stopped beating not long ago, but they managed to bring him back. His body is so weak I don’t think it can handle much more of this, he needs the antidote now. You did bring it, right?”

Athos swallowed hard, the guilt he was putting on himself at the situation was palpable. “Sort of, we’ve given Claude’s plans for the antidote to the doctor and he’s taken them to the lab.”

Porthos watched the mechanical rise and fall of d’Artagnan’s chest, “Do you think he can hold on long enough for them to make it again?”

Aramis shrugged and shook his head, he couldn’t bring himself to find fake reassurances when really he knew how this was most likely going to end.

* * *

With nothing left to do but wait, Aramis urged his friend’s to get checked out. He didn’t want to have to worry about the two of them as well as d’Artagnan.

Two young nurses, Amelie and Ninon, led them to adjoining cubicles, pulled round the curtain and instructed them to sit on the bed and remove their shirts.

“This really isn’t necessary,” Athos grumbled as the nurse carefully pressed at the boot-print shaped bruises beginning to form on his back.

“Maybe not, but I’m sure both you and you’re friends would prefer it if you didn’t end up collapsing later due to internal bleeding.” Amelie smiled, raising an eyebrow, “Better to be safe than sorry, hm? How did this happen anyway?”

“He was kicked down the stairs.” Porthos smirked at Athos as a blood pressure cuff was wrapped around his arm.

“No, I wasn’t!” Athos replied firmly, immediately wanting to stop the serious look of concern on Amelie’s face before he ended up here any longer than necessary, “I was kicked at the top of a staircase, yes, but I didn’t fall down.”

She picked up some ointment and began to rub it into his back, “Hmm, okay.”

“Pressure’s normal,” Ninon confirmed as she undid the cuff and started to press Porthos’ ribs. “You’ve got a few bruises but nothing appears to be broken. Considering you were both were involved in an explosion you’ve been incredibly lucky.”

“Yeah we know. It could have been a lot worse considering the size of the place. Damn shame about the building though.” Porthos winced as Ninon moved onto cleaning the scrapes on his palms.

She disinfected the shallow cuts and determined that they would not require stitches. Athos’, much to his dismay, would. He vaguely remembers the feeling of scraping his arm during the rough landing the bomb blast had provided but had honestly forgotten about it in the midst of everything else going on.

“It’s not too deep, so I can use steri-strips rather than stitches, but you’ll still need to keep it clean and dry whilst it heals.” Amelie scrunched her nose in concentration before instructing Athos to lie down so that she could easily reach his forearm.

She disinfected the area and wiped away any blood residue before placing the strips with complete precision and covered the wound with a dressing. 

Athos and Porthos were in the middle of getting redressed when Aramis hastily pulled back the curtain. “The antidote’s ready.”

* * *

The three men entered the room to see the doctor checking d’Artagnan’s vitals. 

“Is this definitely going to work?” Porthos asked as he closed the door.

The doctor hesitated before answering. “Honestly, we don’t know for sure. This entire situation with d’Artagnan has been a guessing game and I wish I could tell you with the utmost confidence that it will work, but I can’t. We’ve followed the instructions you gave me but even then this man that you got it from may have done something ever so slightly different that could make all the difference to whether or not this works.”

“But he’s going to die if you don’t do anything right? So we’ve got nothing to lose.” Athos muttered sombrely. They were this close to having d’Artagnan back with them, he had to believe it was going to work.

The doctor nodded and prepared the syringe. Just as he was about to inject d’Artagnan, he paused. “The three of you need to know that even if this works, even if this stops the poison from spreading further, it may not undo the damage it’s caused.”

“What do you mean?” Aramis asked.

“He’s in liver failure, kidney failure, we’ve had to perform CPR several times which could have majorly effected his brain function, on top of that he’s got severe blood poisoning. This antidote might not save his life.”

It took Aramis a second to register what the doctor was saying. He hadn’t considered any of that. This entire bedside vigil he’d held onto the hope that his friends would find the antidote and that when it was given to d’Artagnan he had just assumed that the boy would be fine. That somehow this life saving remedy would put an end to all the pain and suffering he was going through and that miraculously he would be completely healed.

Not once had it occurred to him that the antidote wasn’t going to be the final step in saving d’Artagnan.

Before he could dwell on it further the machines connected to d’Artagnan started their goddamn beeping again. 

All four of them stared at the monitor in confusion at the sudden noise. 

The doctor’s eyes scanned the information quickly before turning back to the others. “He’s gone into VF. It’s now or never.”

Athos gave a single, tight-lipped, nod. “Do it.”

The doctor double checked the amount in the syringe one last time before sticking it into the IV cannula already in the crook of d’Artagnan’s elbow and pushed the antidote into his system.

Aramis rested clasped hands against his chin, eyes flitting between d’Artagnan’s pale, weak body and the heart monitor. 

Porthos, biting his nail, did not take his eyes off the rise and fall of d’Artagnan’s chest.

Athos gently picked up d’Artagnan’s hand that was closest to him and squeezed it. If this was to be the boy’s final moments he didn’t want him to feel alone.

No one dared breathe as they waited for a sign that it had worked and for a moment nothing happened.

Then d'Artagnan moved. His head shifted to the side slightly, still obstructed by the tube, but it allowed a few beads of sweat still on his forehead to roll down into his hair.

His eyes scrunched up, though it was unclear whether this was from pain or from trying to finally open again.

He then gave a gentle squeeze back to Athos' hand and the four men watching him gave a collective sigh of relief. He might have a long recovery ahead of him, but for now all that mattered was that the antidote had saved their friend from the clutches of death that had come far too close for their liking.

The doctor observed the machines as they continued to show that d'Artagnan's vitals had still not quite settled yet. He frowned as he read the data, but he wasn't too worried, d'Artagnan's body had been through a lot, it was bound to need a moment to register that all was okay.

Porthos gave Aramis a friendly slap on the back as he couldn't stop the grin from growing on his face, "We sure like cutting things close, don't we?”

Athos gave a huff of laughter as he used his free hand to sandwich d'Artagnan's grasp.

The boy had so much more to live for and Athos would never have forgiven himself if they had failed at the final hurdle.

Then, the still fast beeping of the monitor slowed to a gentler pace.

But, before it could be enjoyed for long, it stopped beeping all together as the long, drawn out tone sounded. Athos felt his heart plummet as d’Artagnan’s hand became lifeless in his grip once more.

The doctor rushed to the door to shout for help before starting CPR, again.

Athos, Aramis and Porthos were ushered back so that everyone could do their job, but they made no move to leave the room and no one tried to stop them from staying. Aramis wanted to ask what was going on, but he was too shocked and confused to even utter a single word. It was like his brain couldn’t keep up with what was happening. One second ago he was feeling so much relief he had almost fallen over and now his heart was being crushed all over again.

For the second time that day Porthos found himself in the middle of his two friends, holding onto their hands, hoping beyond hope that their boy would be saved.

* * *

Now that the rush was over and the adrenaline was gone, Athos was able to fully take in and accept all of the events - and outcomes - of today.

According to Treville all members of Vadim’s gang that were waiting to set off the bombs had been safely rounded up and brought in.

The organisation for the clean-up of the church had already started, but that was going to be a long, arduous process that the city and its people were going to have to deal with. Luckily no one had been seriously injured and shop owners were apparently in quite good spirits despite the damage.

The festival was reaching its climax now. Of course, everyone had heard the explosion, but thankfully after one quick announcement from the main podium and the reassurances from several calm, collected officers, the festival attendees were convinced of their safety and allowed the celebration to continue.

Athos spared a thought for the young cadets who would have had their work cut out for them today. A bomb scare, potentially thousands of terrified people to deal with and half of their support called away to deal with other matters. He didn’t envy them at all, but he had enough faith in them to believe that they made it through okay.

It was almost midnight which meant that, if it was anything like previous years, the streets would be filled with colourful lights and party music. Soon they’d be lighting the floating lanterns and the sky would be filled with the wishes and good intentions of the attendees for all those they loved.

Athos was sad to miss it; it was always his favourite part of the festival. But right now, he was where he needed to be.

It had been several hours since d’Artagnan had been given the antidote and the three of them had not left his side since.

His face was still somewhat pale and he had not yet woken up, but right now it was enough that he was alive. That he was _healing_.

The doctor was truly amazed by how his body was reacting. _A real life miracle_ he had called.

As predicted, he wasn’t instantly cured, but once his heart was beating again it was clear that his body was responding to the antidote.

He had needed some help, drugs that Athos couldn’t recall the name of, but his major organs were no longer failing.

The sepsis was tricky, but they had been combating that since it presented itself so it should clear up and not leave any lasting damage.

The only lasting damage that the doctor could not predict was his brain. They wouldn’t know if anything was wrong until he woke up and there was no telling when that would happen. _Just give him time_ , the doctor had told them, _he might be healing but his body has still been through a lot so just be patient, talk to him and he’ll come back to you._

So that’s where they were. D’Artagnan, still unconscious with a nasal cannula sitting under his nose and far less IV’s than before, being forced to endure Aramis’ anecdotes.

“And then there was that time that Porthos had a slight personal dilemma.”

Porthos looked up with narrow eyes at the mention of his name, worried about where Aramis might be going with this.

“He was having a lovely night in with a certain special lady…”

“No.” Porthos warned, knowing instantly what story he was about to tell, but Aramis was not dissuaded as he continued with a smirk. 

“Now, now Porthos, I know it didn’t last long but she was a lovely girl.”

“You never even met her!” Porthos complained.

“I did that night,” Aramis laughed as he continued talking to d’Artagnan. “He’s quite the romantic, our Porthos. You see he called me in the late evening, all flustered, begging me to come over and help. Now, I knew he had a lady over so at first I was quite surprised by the request.”

A small smile slowly grew on Athos’ face as he studied the pair sitting on the other side of the bed from him. Aramis was enjoying it far too much whilst Porthos was visibly uncomfortable, squirming in his seat despite the fact that d’Artagnan probably couldn’t even hear anything going on around him. This was obviously a story that Athos had not heard about either.

“So I turn up, let myself in with my spare key and first I walk through the dining room. The lights are dimmed, there’s candles, a lovely bouquet of roses, empty plates on the table, but no Porthos. So I shout out for him and he calls out to me from inside the bedroom.”

Porthos let out a small groan as he noticed Athos listening intently to the story.

“So I knock on the door and he tells me to come in and what do I find? Porthos and- what was her name?”

“Melissa.” Porthos provided glumly.

“Melissa! That was it,” Aramis was getting far too excited, “well he and Melissa had been having a bit of fun and after some miscommunication, they had both ended up handcuffed to the bed with the only set of keys sitting on the dresser on the other side of the room.”

Laughter forced itself out of Athos unexpectedly and he quickly clamped a hand over his mouth.

“Sorry,” he muttered to Porthos, pursing his lips to try and stop the laughter.

Porthos glared at him but soon gave in as he tried and failed to contain a smirk. “It was all going so well okay, it’s not like I wanted to get you involved!”

“Well, you did kick me out as soon as I handed you the keys so I didn’t exactly interrupt much of your night!” Aramis chortled.

Athos, smiling, rolled his eyes just as something caught his attention.

A pair of dark brown eyes were staring at him. Eyes he had been waiting to see for what felt like a lifetime.

“D’Artagnan?” He asked softly, not daring to believe that their boy was finally awake and back with them.

The boy blinked a few times, as if trying to clear his vision, but didn’t respond.

His brow furrowed as he seemed to notice the nasal cannula resting on his face and with all the strength of a newborn kitten, he slowly lifted his hand to try and remove it.

Feeling a sense of déjà vu, Athos gently caught hold of it before it could do any damage and placed it back on the bed, “Best leave that alone.”

D’Artagnan looked confused and opened his mouth ready to speak, before slowly closing it again.

Athos looked over to his friends, the worried expression clear on his face, but Aramis simply smiled reassuringly back at him as he leant forward and gently covered d’Artagnan’s hand with his own, “It’s okay, take your time, we’re not going anywhere.”

**Epilogue**

**2 Months Later**

“Aramis, please! Be careful!” Athos shouted out from where he was perched on the bench.

Side-eyeing his friend, Aramis huffed as he held out a hand for d’Artagnan to grab hold of and helped him up from the mat. “You’re the one who agreed that he needed to get back into shape.”

“And flinging him to the ground is going to achieve that, is it?” Athos frowned. 

D’Artagnan wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his wrist and swallowed hard as he tried to get his breath back.

Aramis took this opportunity to hand d’Artagnan his water bottle. He watched to make sure the boy was taking a drink before replying. “If I take it easy on him he’s never going to learn, is he? Besides, it’s just a bit of light sparing.”

“Well, try even lighter, yeah?” Athos tipped his head to gesture to where d’Artagnan was currently rubbing his shoulder.

“Athos, I’m sure d’Artagnan can handle it. It’s nothing he and Aramis haven’t done before.” Porthos perked up from the corner of the gym where he was placing a set of dumbbells back onto the rack. 

“Yeah but that was _before_. You don’t know what his body can handle now.” Athos stated, seriously.

“His body is healing!” Aramis massaged his temples. He understood his friend’s worries, but was getting severely frustrated at the thought of how much it could potentially hinder d’Artagnan’s progress. “If you’re going to keep mother-henning and distracting us, then just go and get a coffee or something whilst we finish up.”

Athos opened his mouth to retaliate, but before they could continue going in circles with the same discourse they’d been having for weeks, d’Artagnan interrupted with an exasperated sigh.

“Guys. I am right here, you know. You don’t have to keep arguing about me.”

Athos’ tone became very gentle as if the previous volume of his words would be too much for the boy to handle. “We just don’t want you to push yourself too hard.”

“I’m not,” d’Artagnan gave a soft, reassuring smile, “And I promised to tell you if it was ever too much for me.”

As he leant down to place his bottle on the floor a sudden pain shot through his side. It faded as quickly as it came, but that didn’t stop the slight hiss that left d’Artagnan’s mouth as his hand reached up to press against the scar of his stab wound.

Instantly he knew that as soon as he looked up he’d find three sets of worried eyes watching him.

“I’m fine, it’s just cramp. Come on.”

He brought his closed fists back up to chest height in a signal to Aramis that he was ready to carry on.

Aramis admired d’Artagnan’s perseverance but even he knew that his friend was too stubborn to admit defeat. “You’ve worked hard this morning, maybe we should call it a day? I know I could do with a break.” He smiled.

D’Artagnan gave him an incredulous look but nodded in agreement.

The four headed into the changing rooms to shower and change into their work attire.

Aramis took the opportunity of having d’Artagnan shirtless in front of him to sit him down and check his wound.

There wasn’t much to see. On the outside it had healed completely leaving only a thick pink scar, but the doctor had informed them all of what to look out for if it ever started seriously hurting or showing signs of swelling.

It had been a long road for d’Artagnan to get to where he was now so Aramis supposed he should take the current situation as a win.

When d’Artagnan had first woken up he had been very confused. He couldn’t speak, could barely move, he was just so weak.

As the week went on, his condition began to improve at a steady pace. Athos had been there when he said his first words. In fact it had scared him half to death to hear a sudden ghostly whisper after being alone in a quiet room with d’Artagnan for hours.

It was Porthos who witnessed the first time d’Artagnan managed to sit up unaided, with an undeniable feeling of pride bubbling in his chest. 

Aramis had the privilege of helping d’Artagnan out of bed for the first time, watching as he braved the few paces to the door and back.

It was also Aramis who had been there when d’Artagnan cried for the first time.

D’Artagnan had been awake for five days when he broke. Everyone had been telling him that it would be a slow recovery and to not push himself, but as he lay there on his side, alone in the room, wanting to roll over but just not having the strength, he felt so pathetic.

It was only a quiet whimper, but it was loud enough to d’Artagnan’s ears that he did not hear Aramis opening the door. He did, however, feel the gentle pressure of a calloused hand grip his own as another began stroking his hair.

Words were not necessary, the grounding touch of his friend being enough to open the floodgates completely, allowing d’Artagnan to let out the confusing mix of emotions he had been bottling up.

By the end of his second week he had improved massively, enough to be allowed home. The condition of his major organs had been steadily increasing since the antidote had been administered and his stab wound was healing nicely but would still require him to take things slowly - something both the doctor and his friends had made clear to him several times.

As the weeks went by his body got stronger and with the help from his scheduled physical therapy sessions he was finally back at work on _very_ light duty.

It was this step forward that prompted d’Artagnan’s request to join them again during their gym sessions and now things were truly feeling like they were getting back to normal. 

After getting dressed, the four men piled into their respective cars, d’Artagnan hitching a ride with Athos, and they made their way to the police station.

* * *

They entered the station and headed straight to their office, only to bump into Treville as he exited the break room.

“Ah, I wasn’t expecting you all until later, but since you’re here, I have some news you might be happy to hear.” He smiled as he led the group to their office.

Treville motioned for them to enter the room with the wad of paperwork he had clutched in his hand.

They all made themselves comfortable and ready to listen, Aramis taking a seat in his chair, Porthos and d’Artagnan sitting on the edges of their own desks and Athos choosing to remain standing close to Treville. 

The captain flicked through the paperwork he was holding and pulled out a sheet, placing it on the top of the pile.

“I’ve gotten word back about Vadim’s case. All evidence we submitted has been accepted and processed and they’ll have a trial date by the end of the day.”

“Any idea on how long he’ll get?” Athos questioned.

“I don’t know officially, but the judge reckons she can bump it right up and go for a life sentence, what with the attempted murder and planning of a terrorist attack.”

“He’s not gonna wriggle out of this one anytime soon.” Porthos grinned as he leant over and gave d’Artagnan a friendly slap on the back.

“What about the others?” D’Artagnan asked.

“Everyone who was found waiting at one of the bomb locations will get fifteen years at least. Though, the rest of his crew have gotten off too lightly in my opinion, either community service or less than a few months of prison time depending on their conviction.”

D’Artagnan wasn’t sure how he felt about that. They _were_ criminals and the majority of them had been prepared to follow Vadim until the end, but they had been surprisingly welcoming to him.

“And Claude Beaumont,” Treville continued as he glanced down at his notes, “will be lucky if he gets out before he turns 80. They’re going to try and take him down for attempted murder on top of his terrorist attack.”

“Can’t believe it’s over.” Aramis marvelled.

The four of them were astounded, d’Artagnan’s recovery had made the past two months seem very long and drawn out, but now that he was back at work and their case with Vadim was finally going to be closed, it felt a bit strange.

“Yes, well just because you’ve finished with Vadim doesn’t mean I don’t have any work for you,” Treville directed this to Aramis and Porthos in particular which made d’Artagnan smile.

“Do you have a case for us, Sir?” Athos asked, ever the professional.

“I do indeed, I’ve sent you all an email of the details. It’s going to be a long one.”

D’Artagnan perked up at this. “All of us?”

Treville nodded once with a slight twinkle in his eye. It was warming to see d’Artagnan so eager to get stuck back in. He’d been worried that the boy’s near death experience would put him off the job for life but he shouldn’t have been worried at all. D’Artagnan was young, impulsive, reckless but most importantly, always determined to get involved and get the job done.

Athos bowed his head in contemplation before making eye contact with Treville, “Sir, do you think that’s the best idea?”

This statement, however expected it may have been, made d’Artagnan get up from where he had been leaning on the desk and stand closer to his friend. “Athos,” he started with a smirk, “we’ve been here before, we can go round and round in circles, you with your grumpy old man face and me with my cocky comebacks until you agree with me that I’m ready.”

Knowing the boy was right but still wanting to make his point, Athos raised a wary eyebrow, “You’ve been through a lot in these past few months and you haven’t exactly been back long. Nobody would expect you to be ready.”

“Maybe not, but I am. I know how bad the last assignment must have been for you lot, but to get back out there is exactly what I need.” D’Artagnan remarked, “We’ll be okay.” 

Athos gently squeezed d’Artagnan’s shoulder and nodded. The boy was right, he would probably never feel ready to let d’Artagnan back on an assignment for fear of almost losing him again, but holding him back was going to do him no good.

“Great, take a look at the case and let me know what you find,” Treville said as they all moved to take their seats.

In that instance the atmosphere in the room changed, whether they realised it or not, now that things were finally, officially back to normal.

As Treville left the room and closed the door behind him he could already hear the four of them chatting excitably. He smiled to himself as he walked away. _Yeah, they’ll be okay._

The End.


End file.
